Letters, Daggers and Death Threats
by Black waters white stones
Summary: Hermione&co r in their 6th year just in this tale nothing goes as J.K wrote it... We all love a good game of I Bet You Can't with a little consequences but what happens wen it all gets2close4comfort& an old friend comes back to school? Oh&death threats?
1. Ch1: Potions, Ginny and TSP

**I do not own Harry Potter i merely borrowed them from J.K Rowling for they are HER creations ;D  
><strong>

my first story! hope you enjoy it! i'm open to any comments on ANYTHING promise! i'm doing this mostly for the Dramione fans so if you could lemme know what you think should happen next i'd be grateful to hear your views!

* * *

><p>Hermione Jean Granger sat at the desk in the Gryffindor common room; quill in her hand, Ron's Potions homework at her side, her eyes bulging. Professor Slughorn was nice, but not <em>that <em>nice to give Ron a decent mark for _this. _Ronald had put so little brainpower in his homework that if there were a way to transmit the thought he'd mustered into a squirrel that squirrel would be very dumb.

"Idiot." she muttered under her breath. She recognised what he had written, it was copied straight from their Potions book. "Idiot! Idiot! _Idiot_!" she said the words viciously as she read through the paper. After a while she concluded that, yes, he had copied the whole thing and because of this fact – Hermione tried so very hard to repress a grin – there was nothing she could do to save it.

Having failed not to grin, Hermione stretched out, threw Ron's quill down on the un-saveable essay and popped into the cosy armchair by the fire, relaxing her soar joints as she stretched again and curled up on the soft material.

"Suits him right!" Hermione grumbled softly in the chair, her tired eyes drooping. She felt the haze of sleep swirl around her head. Images from the past flickered behind her lids and repressed worries stirred in her mind. She was so close; so close to sleep when;

"Hey Hermione have you seen-!?" a familiar voice called but stopped abruptly.

_If it were any other voice…_ Hermione thought grimly but with a sigh, opened her eyes to see Ginny standing at the foot of the girl's dormitory's stairs. "Sorry 'Mione I didn't know you were sleeping," she said in a rush. "I'll come back later if you wa-"

"Don't worry Gin," Hermione sighed, her eyes so tired they barely opened more than slits. "Whah hih sit?" she yawned covering her mouth hastily. "Who are you looking for?"

"I was just- have you seen Harry?" she asked then shook her head slightly. "Or Ron for that matter?"

"Yeah they left a couple hours ago," her eyes scanned the room hastily before she said the next bit, "they're still tailing Malfoy."

"What _again_?" Ginny hissed.

"Yep," Hermione scowled lazily at the floor near her feet.

"What are they expecting to find anyway?" Ginny was pacing now. "It's not like they have _proof_ for Merlin's sake!"

"_I know Gin._ And _you_ know that I've tried as much as you have to dissuade them," Hermione let her head rest back, two tired to really get angry. "But boys will be boys."

"A-K-A:" Ginny huffed, falling into another armchair, "senseless, stubborn, cock driven, _complete pain in the necks_, short tempered, never listening _arses_!"

Hermione gave it a dramatic pause before peeping through her lashes and smiling slightly. "_Exactly_."

The two girls looked at each other and laughed.

Hermione nestled her head back and let her eyes slip shut. There was silence for a few minutes, in which Ginny thought Hermione had fallen asleep.

"'Mione?" she murmured tentatively.

"Hmm?" Hermione stirred slightly.

"You think Harry," she pause slightly, "and Ron, will be ok?"

Hermione sighed and straightened up, "listen Gin, there is no need to worry, I mean it _is _kind of late and they _are _'senseless, stubborn, cock driven, _complete pain in the necks_, short tempered, never listening _arses_'" – Ginny gave a soft snort of a laugh at this – "but you know Harry and Ron." Hermione turned to face her friend straight on, "They get in trouble all the time (the _gits_) and always find a way to squeeze out of it." She leaned forward to stoke her friend's arm comfortingly. "And _besides_! With the cloak _and _the map they'll be ab-so-lute-ly fine." She winked. "You'll see." Hermione didn't know where she was getting all of this. Normally she was the fist to be worried but now she sounded so _sure_. Must be the sleep deprivation.

Well whatever it was; it worked.

"Yeah you're probably right," Ginny sighed, easing up a little. "C'mon 'Mione," she smiled, standing up and extending her hand to her best friend. "Let's go sleep. You look like you need it."

Hermione grinned sleepily at her, and oh so grateful that it so happened that _Ginny_ was her best friend, she let herself be pulled to her feet and dragged to her loving bed in the room at the end of the red steps.

The next morning Hermione was woken up by some tapping and hooting. She opened her eyes and sure enough there was that same black hawk that had haunted her for the past week or two, causing her to have frequent nightmares and cold sweats in the middle of the night.

Her head was _pounding_so hard! What time was it? Hermione's eyes darted to the old grandfather clock in the corner of the room and she felt her shoulders sag. _Four in the ruddy morning AGAIN!_

"Ok let's get this over with," she sighed, swinging her legs over the side of her bed and stumbling over to the window.

The wind was icy and bit easily in Hermione's warm flesh. She shuddered, opened the window wider and slammed it shut the minute the hawk flew in. As usual it screeched and howled, flying madly around the room. She glared at the annoying thing and with a careless flick of her wand she silenced it with a _Muffliato_ before her friends could stir. The hawk sent a silent screech of annoyance and whooshed down.

"Argh!" Hermione yelped, as it's sharp claws scraped and scratched at her bare arms and legs. "Ouch!" she lifted her arms in front of her face to protect herself but not before the hawk could take another snag at her face. She felt the claw mark start to burn and grimaced, the fact that it was dangerously close to her eye making tears escape. "Stupid little- _Petrificus Totalus!"_ she snarled, and watched as the blasted thing fell to the floor, completely immobilised.

Flustered, she touched her cheek and pulled her fingers back. Crimson blood stained her fingertips. "Happy now you little _bastard?_" Hermione sneered down at the immobilised hawk as if it were a person. She stood there fuming at the animal for half a minute before sighing, walking over to it and ripping out the parchment attached to its clawed leg. She then grabbed the thing by the back of the head, marched over to the window and threw it as hard as she could, undoing the charm as it spiralled into the distance before turning back to the letter.

Hermione held the delicate material between her fingertips. She knew what it would say, well roughly anyway, and despite everything she was slightly frightened of what it might say.

Three weeks prior Hermione had received the first of these letters. It had contained a riddle, nothing too impossible, about what to put in a bag.

The first had talked about a tent, the second of a fireplace and the third of a slave. The letters had been packed of death threats like 'if you are not prepared Hermione Granger all your friends will be in grave danger' or 'I will use the Cruciatus Curse until your mind is ripe with silent fright' all of them rhyming.

But it wasn't the rhyming that scared her, in fact the rhymes were of poor quality if anything, not written by someone who read poetry for sure, it was the people the figure wrote about. He or she kept sending death threats to people that were close to Hermione through the letters to her, telling her exactly what that person was up to on a specific day saying exactly what they said at the time.

She had asked all her friends what they had done on each of the threat dates and it always turned out that the threaten-er was exactly right and this scared her beyond belief.

Slowly, with trembling fingers, Hermione unfolded the letter.

_ Dear Hermione Granger_

_This time I ask of you an object of despair_

_I ask of you to bring me a real and proper torture chair_

_Put it in the bag like I know you will_

_Make sure it'll keep the prisoner silent and still_

_Do this and think of your dear friend Ronald Weasley_

_Think of how I could kill him so easily_

_For he is unguarded tonight_

_Hiding under a cloak removed from sight_

_Do you understand?_

_For muddy footprints he leaves behind_

_And that is how Ronald Weasley I will find_

_Now sit there, frightened, pending on every breath_

_For tonight you will dream of Ronald Weasley's death_

_Sweet dreams_

_X_

_T.S.P_

Hermione thought she ought to be used to this by now, used to the constant threats to her friend's safety. But Hermione couldn't help it. Her legs buckled, her body gave way, and everything went numb as she collapsed onto the floor, curling up into a ball, letter held to her chest, whimpering and sobbing weakly.

_Ron!_ She thought shuddering at the thought of his redhead friend limp on the floor. Dead. "_No!_" the moan that rocked through her escaped her lips only by accident.

Hermione cried for a long time until finally she fell into the nightmare the letter said she would have.

* * *

><p>thank you ! hope you guys liked it!<p>

I AM A DRAMIONE FAN AND AM PROUD TO BE SO! whoop!

lemme kno!  
>R.<p> 


	2. Ch2: Memories, Fire and Excuses

**same as before :)**

Sorry it took longer than i thought it would to write. PLEASE I'M SORRY !

enjoy B)

* * *

><p>"Ginny!" the cold hand of Parvati Patil pressed to her warm one. "Ginny wake <em>up<em>!" she whined, shaking the sleeping girl's shoulder.

Ginny moaned and grumbled pushing her fiery red head under her pillow.

"_Ginny!_ You've got to get _up!_ Hermione's unconscious on the floor! You've got to. Wake! Up!" Parvati emphasised the last two works by pushing down on Ginny's back on each syllable.

The redhead fought against her fellow Gryffindor's hands, pushing her up and flipping herself so she could look at Parvati. "Hermione's _what!_"

"She's _unconscious _on the _floor_ look!" Parvati let go of Ginny and pointed at the unmoving figure on the floor.

The girl's dorm was nearly pitch black and it became evident to Ginny that Parvati and she was the only girls' that were both awake and knew about Hermione.

But Ginny didn't care.

She stumbled out of her Gryffindor sheets, flipped on the light switch, ignoring the groans from her fellow house members, and darted to Hermone's side.

"'Mione?" she shook the bushy haired girl's shoulders. "Hermione!"

"What the hell's going on?" A messy haired Lavender Brown looked over Ginny's shoulder. Her drooping eyes widened as she caught sight of Hermione. "Wow is she alright?"

Ginny turned her best friend's head a little, revealing the deep gash on the side of her face. "Hermione?" it was all Ginny could say. She lifted a hesitant finger and brushed it over the dried blood on Hermione's cheek. As she picked up her best friend's head to take a look she felt a small lump just a few inches above her neck. Had the brunet hit her head?

The dormant girl stirred and moaned, wincing ad Ginny's fingers.

The red head smiled weakly. _She's ok, she's going to be ok,_ her mind crooned. "Lavender, Parvati help me, we need to get her to the Hospital Wing."

Hermione could hear voices on the edge of her subconscious. What was going on?

She felt the back of her eyelids flare red as a light was flicked on. Why was the light on? _Surely _not that much time had passed since she's woken up to receive the letter. Why are they up so early? _The letter! _Had Hermione been able to she would have gasped as the memories came streaming back.

_Hermione woke up on the hard floor of the girl's dormitory, damp with tears and sweat. She remembered clearly why she had been on the floor and hesitantly looked down at her hands. Sure enough there was the letter from T.S.P, still grasped tightly between her, now sweaty, fingers. Slowly, she pried them off the damp material and sighed._

I should really get rid of this_, she thought numbly and without a second thought she grabbed the wood of the bed frame and pulled herself to her feet._

_Walking down the stairs silently was harder than it would have been if Hermione were remotely close to being able to see. The drying tears, and the fact that her eyes were determined to close on her made her make enough noise that she didn't hear the Fat Lady's portrait swing inwards._

_Hermione wobbled over to the fireplace, stubbing her toe on the chair leg. She rubbed it but lost her balance and in a desperate attempt to regain it she stumbled, tripped and fell to her knees, scraping them hard on the smooth granite surrounding the crimson-yellow flames._

_Hermione sighed, wincing, and looked into the cackling sparks. Was it just her or did they sound like they were… snickering at her?_

_She shook her head and pushed the thought out of her mind. Hesitantly she stretched the hand that held the letter but pulled it back quickly, unfolding it before stretching out again, making sure that prior to the burn she wouldn't see the letters on the page._

_Hermione liked to watch the letters burn when she did this, almost as if she expected the threat to burn away with them but before they were in the arms of the flames, she couldn't bare the sight of them._

_She felt the unease stir in her stomach. Should she burn it? Or would she need it? Did the usual mechanism work, jus by memory? Or was there some secret message he had to see the paper for?_

_Hermione closed her eyes. She had been through these questions before. _You burned the other ones, you can burn this one too;_ she thought to reassure herself. _Do it now_, and she did. Flicking her fingers in a way that enabled the letter to fall with the writing upward, Hermione dropped it into the fire and felt the nausea stir weakly as she watched the threatening words burn to nothing. Burn to ash._

_She waited until all she saw was flames, wood and ash before she numbly got to her feet and headed back to where she really wanted to be._

_Hermione's feet were numb with the cold and she barely even felt it when her foot slammed hard into the forgotten step she hadn't realized was there. She let out a silent yelp and felt the dread in her stomach as she flew forward. _No!_ She thought desperately and grabbed blindly at something, anything. Her hand clasped around something that felt oddly like a rope and her body spun round so that she was looking, for a brief second, at the ceiling before her weight came into account and her fingers gave away._

They had slipped away from the rope-like 'something' and before Hermione could have let out a yelp of pain for the slight rope burn on her skin, her head had hit hard on what could only be the corner of a bedside table and the world had gone black.

Having accomplished what she needed to accomplish, Hermione fought the slight haze that was keeping her from moving but it was too strong.

_Let me out!_ She screeched at the walls of her head and couldn't believe it when she thought she heard an echo.

She could hear now though. Voices, groans to be precise, filled her ears. Hermione tried to _feel_ something but she was still numb. How hard had she hit her head?

"Hermione!" it was Ginny, she sounded worried.

_Oh Gin_, Hermione felt a strike of affection for her best friend.

"What the hell's going on?" another voice, Lavender's, followed quickly by a, "Wow is she alright?"

"Hermione?" it was Ginny again, she sounded so worried, and Hermione felt her fingers slip under her head and a short burst of pain from the bump there.

Wait. She could _feel_ it. Hermione could feel herself coming back. Her friend's fingers brushed over her cheek and Hermione felt her skin catching on the dried blood. She stirred and felt Ginny's finger's tighten on her head and winced as the bump pulsed.

The redhead let out a breath of evident relief. "Lavender, Parvati help me, we need to get her to the Hospital Wing."

But Hermione was back now and the movement that had started after Ginny had spoken, stopped as her eyes flickered open.

Light blinded Hermione instantly and she squinted away from it. A second later everything else came into focus.

Ginny was kneeling beside her, arms extended ready to lift her up, Parvati was hovering behind Ginny with her arms forward ready to help as well whilst Lavender was frowning down at her with an ugly grimace at the prospect of picking her up.

Hermione sat up ignoring the dizziness she got and stood up.

"Look she's awake!" Lavender said in mock relief.

The three girls watched as Hermione swayed uneasily.

"Careful 'Mione!" Ginny squeaked at her holding her arms out to catch her, should the brunet fall. "Can you walk? We need to get you to the Hospital Wing!"

"No, no Gin. I-I'm fine," Hermione steadied herself against the bed frame.

"But you're barely up straight!" Ginny protested, her cheeks firing up to mimic the colour of her hair as she flushed with anger.

Hermione shot her an equally angry glare and with deliberate slowness she jerked her hand of the bed frame and crossed her arms.

"'Mione," Ginny warned through gritted teeth. "You. Need. To. Be. Looked. At. And. That's. _Final!"_ She snarled putting her hands on her hips.

Hermione sighed. "I'm fine," she brushed past them. "Really guys. Just let me clean up and you'll see."

"But 'Mione," Parvati whined. "You've cot cuts!"

"Yeah _'Mione_ where did you get _them _from?" Lavender half turned away from her, crossing her arms and pointing her pointy nose in the air. "What were you _up _to?"

Ginny shot a glare at her over her shoulder for the tone but turned back to Hermione with a confused expression.

"Yeah, what _were_ you up to?" Parvati said softly.

Hermione bit her lip. She couldn't tell them the truth. _No!_ Her mind protested just at the thought. T.S.P knew where Ginny had been last week and she had been making out with Harry! The only reason _anybody_ knew was because Ginny had told Hermione herself. Ginny had wanted it secret and Harry knew better than to do something Ginny didn't want. Plus he was too _shy_. Whoever this T.S.P was, he was serious. He, 'he' only because it was easier to refer to the _mutt_ as a 'he', knew where all of Hermione's friends were and what they were doing and with nothing, no weapon or nothing to blackmail him with, on her side Hermione knew she wasn't ready to gamble with his patience just yet. One option left then.

Lie.

"I couldn't sleep because I had a nightmare s-so I went downstairs to look at Ron's homework again," she tried pushing the air in her cheeks to make it more convincing. "But I fell asleep and when I woke up I could barely see so I tripped and I-I guess I hit my head?" she twisted the last bit into a question, theatrically touching the bump on the back of her head and wincing slightly as the only-too-real pain throbbed there.

Lavender and Parvati seemed convinced; Parvati with a nod and a sympathetic look and Lavender with a snort and a small smile at the thought of Hermione in pain, but Ginny pursed her lips and narrowed her eyes suspiciously.

Ginny was the only one who could really see through any of Hermione's lies, but stuck on proof on this occasion, the redhead kept her mouth shut and crossed her arms over her chest with a _so that's how it's going to be? _look.

Hermione knew that when Ginny gave that look, she knew something was up. And there was no dissuading Ginny Weasley. So the second Parvati and Lavender turned their backs on the two, Hermione dropped the innocent expression she had up, in its place she one that she knew would read; _yeah I guess it is._

* * *

><p><em>i would like to dedicate this to Dally-Fang for being my first review! THANK YOU <strong>soooooo<strong>much for reviewing ! i can honestly say that i danced at your review!_

I'm SOOO sorry i haven't included Draco in my chapters so far but i can tell you that i am 99% sure that he will be in the next one! I'M SORRY! 99 i **promise. **the only reason i say 99 is just incase my brain dies. if it doesn't then you can probably guess what the %age would be ;D. to make it up to you i'll give him a few annoying appearances (WHENEVER the opportunity presents itself i super duper swear!)  
>i'd also like to thank WishFishKitty, kazukami, GodAndSatan and DanseDeLaMort for liking my first chapter. Thank you it means so much!<p>

see you sooooooooooooooon  
>looooooove<br>R.


	3. Ch3: Punched, Fractured and Healed

**same as before ;D**

omg i'm sorry i took so long! lol here it is!

enjoy ;1

R.

* * *

><p>Hermione looked at her bare self in the long mirror of the Prefect's bathroom. There were scratches <em>everywhere<em>.

"Stupid Hawk!" she muttered. The deeper ones were, naturally, the ones that would be the most visible in public. On her face, neck, the back of her palms, on her shins where the skin was thin, long scrapes on her stomach and on her forehead.

She'd managed to heal most of the scars but some couldn't be helped.

Four persisted the most.

The first being the one the damn hawk had carved into her cheek, the second the deep gash on her neck so dangerously close to the essential vein there, the third on the inside of the arm she had used to protect her face and the forth the one that had cut through her nightgown and scraped across her chest.

Each were deep and bled a lot when the scabs were removed, so deep that despite the countless spells that Hermione tried, they didn't seem to go away. Sure they healed up partially, in fact she had managed to get them to a comfortable shade of pink, but they still broke apart easily and once they did, they bled a lot. Another cut, that wasn't so deep but deep enough to split annoyingly when she moved, was on her elbow making it increasingly hard to bend it without bleeding again.

Hermione was relieved when she found that she could heal most of the scratches with a flick of her trusted wand but she was resigned for the bigger ones. Only Madam Pomfrey could help her now.

_But not yet_, Hermione corrected herself smoothly. It was just too easy to assume she had been attacked and that was the last thing she needed.

Stepping over to where her cloak sagged in a heap on the floor, Hermione dragged the heavy material over her skin carefully, trying very hard not to split any of the cuts so to start the healing procedure again. To her great relief none of them did but she got very close with the one on her elbow. This was going to be a long day.

As silently as she could Hermione made her way out of the bathroom, having already washed and scrubbed before attempting to heal anything, and ran down to the Great Hall her left arm bolt straight by her side so to not put anymore stress on the gash. Hermione felt a bit flustered not to find Ginny waiting for her like the redhead had promised she would but couldn't help loosing the frown when she got to breakfast.

The Hall was filled with the bubble of chatter and the minute the big wooden doors opened Hermione really felt that she wasn't alone anymore and her tense shoulders relaxed.

Her eyes caught immediately on the two redheads that where her best friends and the minute she got them she got Harry to.

Grinning, Hermione jogged down to them and popper into the seat between Ginny and Lavender, who kindly threw her nose in the other direction, opposite to Harry and Ron.

"Hey guys," Hermione said sweetly, her face pushing into a pleased, red-cheeked expression.

"Morning Hermione," Ron grumbled, stabbing a gravy covered potato with his fork.

Hermione raised an eyebrow. "What's up with _you?"_

Ron flashed her a half-a-second-long glare. "Nu-_thing." _he hissed at her.

The brunet opened her mouth to retort but the raven-haired boy beside Ron interrupted before she could.

"Morning 'Mione" Harry said cheerfully, looking up from his food to welcome his friend. But the minute his eyes latched onto her face he frowned. "Hermione what–?"

But Hermione had already turned to Ginny, her annoyance stirring. "So are you going to tell me why you didn't wait for me outside the Prefect's bathroom?"

At this point Ginny was lost for an excuse not to answer so turned stiffly to her best friend. "I was angry." She said measuring the bushy haired girl's expression. "Because you lied to me yesterday." She finished off smoothly with a hard glare.

Hermione gritted her teeth. "Not this again!" she hissed. "I! Didn't! Lie! To! You!" she snarled heatedly.

"Yes you did," Ginny spat between gritted teeth. "You _so_ did!"

"What _possible_ proof do you have that I lied to you!" Hermione whined. Ginny was getting on her nerves and it was hard not to beg for her to stop.

"Because you got attacked and you won't _admit _it!"

Hermione's eyes flashed to Ron and Harry who had completely abandoned trying to listen to the girls and were talking joyfully about Quidditch. "_That is not proof!"_ she hissed, relieved that Harry hadn't heard the 'attacked' theory.

Ginny's eyes narrowed. "So you're not denying it?"

"_Of course I am!"_ Hermione was starting to really lose her temper. "But what about _proof,_ Ginny? PROOF! You need pr-oof to accuse me!"

"I have proof!"

"Well what is it then!" Hermione folded her arms over each other, challengingly.

"You didn't mention your _cuts!_" she hissed.

"_What?"_ Hermione looked puzzled… and alarmed.

"Your _cuts_ Hermione. Your little _story _about how you_ tripped_ doesn't explain your cuts." Ginny hissed the last word a little too loud when she saw Hermione's eyes widen, sensing she was close to an answer, and Harry's head popped up at the word.

"Yeah 'Mione I was going to ask, how did you-?" Harry started again but was cut off by Ron this time.

"Merlin Hermione!" Ron had looked up from his plate, gravy smudged neatly over his lips, his previous attitude towards Hermione forgotten, his big eyes worried. "What the hell happened to your face?" he lifted his, thankfully, clean hand, and stretched across the Gryffindor table, gently stroking the large slash across his friend's face.

Hermione blushed furiously at his dazed expression, that mirrored Harry's almost exactly, and, ignoring Lavender's razor sharp glares at her, preceded to reassure her friends. "It's nothing. Don't worry." She lifted a hesitant hand and brushed Ron's away.

What had he been thinking doing that? Everybody in Gryffindor, hell everybody in the _school,_ was familiar with the theory that Ron had the 'hots' for her, and doing that, especially in public, was _bound_ to attract unwanted attention. Sure enough;

"Well lookie, lookie what we have here." An eerily familiar voice drawled from behind her.

Hermione whipped around to find herself facing a familiar snowy white ferret.

"Frizz ball and Weasel here are finally making it official!" he boomed loudly, his attempt of catching everybody's attention didn't work as well as he might have wanted.

Ron jumped up from the bench with clenched fists, his cheeks flushing to the point of camouflaging themselves with his hair. "Shut your mouth Malfoy!" he shouted at the same time that Lavender bounced up and huffed; "they are _not_ dating!"

"Ooh two timing are you now Weasel?" Malfoy crooned devilishly. "Too bad they're both fat, ugly vi-"

There was a loud SLAP as a flushed-with-rage Lavender Brown whipped her hand across his cheek before storming out of the Hall with Parvati Patil at her heels calling after her.

Malfoy glared after her and muttered something that sounded eerily like 'snitch'.

"Don't talk to them like that!" Neville Longbottom stood up from the place diagonally opposite to where Lavender was.

"I wouldn't talk like that if I were you," Malfoy sneered waving his hand carelessly in the air. As if by magic Crabbe and Goyle materialised behind Neville their big gorilla arms crossed. Crabbe jabbed his fist into the paling boy's arms and he yelped.

The raven-haired boy jumped up, his cheeks mimicking flames as his famous temper kicked in. "Tell them to leave him alone you cowardly little Ferret, you bas-!" Harry started but for the third time in a row was cut off when Ferret reached across the table and grabbed Ron by the collar, dragging him forward until the only thing that had any hope of keeping the redhead from loosing his balance was the Malfoy's pale arm.

"And _you! _Blood traitor! Got a problem with me sharing the good news on your nonexistent love life _Weasel?_ You and your boyfriend _Potter!_"

"Let go of him!" The fiery redhead beside the blond started pounding her fists on his shoulder whilst Harry, being unable to hurt the mutt from the other side of the table, pulled out his wand.

"You'd better let go of him Malfoy," Harry purred, his calm tone making the words more menacing.

"You _mutt!_" the girl on the other side of the blond howled.

Hermione couldn't see Ginny because when Malfoy had leaned across to grab at Ron he had pushed her away from her redhead friend but she was sure that Ginny's cheeks would be red as the rising sun with the utter hate she must be feeling.

"Oh and if it isn't the Weasellete!" Malfoy had let go of Ron at this point, having pushed off Ginny's fists angrily. He now looked back at the male of the Weasleys' with a sneer on his pale, pointed face. "Too bad your surname isn't 'Dog' so I could call Weasellete here her rightful name;" his head snapped back to Ginny, "_bitch_."

Hermione gasped and stood up, fuming with rage.

"DON'T YOU EVER TALK ABOUT MY SISTER LIKE THAT," Ron shrieked as both him and Harry launched themselves across the Gryffindor table at the white haired _git_.

Hermione caught Malfoy's smirk before, with a wave of his wand, he sent the two boys soaring across the room and hitting the far wall with a BANG that had the whole hall gasping. The brunet's hands flew up to her mouth as she yelped. Then she rounded on Malfoy.

"YOU!" Hermione hissed furiously, punctuation all of the sentence she was going to say with ten punches per word.

"Foul!" – _punch, punch,_ _punch,_ _punch,_ _punch,_ _punch,_ _punch,_ _punch,_ _punch,_ _punch –_

"Loathsome!" – _punch, punch,_ _punch,_ _punch,_ _punch,_ _punch,_ _punch,_ _punch,_ _punch,_ _punch –_

"_Evil!" _– _punch, punch,_ _punch,_ _punch,_ _punch,_ _punch,_ _punch,_ _punch,_ _punch,_ _punch –_

"Little!" – _punch, punch,_ _punch,_ _punch,_ _punch,_ _punch,_ _punch,_ _punch,_ _punch,_ _punch –_

"_COCKROACH!"_ Hermione shrieked the last word at the top of her lungs as she hammered blind punches at anything that so much as _felt_ as Malfoy. She felt her cuts slit open at the force of her movements but kept going and going. Her knuckles felt soar and wet but she kept punching, grinning when she felt her hand connect with something that cracked under her force. All she could hear was gasping, groans, and yelps of surprise and pain. And she loved it.

Somewhere in the distance, passed her haze, she heard Ginny yell in frustration and felt happiness at the thought that the redhead was having her fun too.

Soon enough, way too soon for Hermione's likings, resistant hands pried her away from the _pathetic_ excuse for… well anything.

Hermione struggled, hard, against the hands that held her back but as she kicked out to step forward her foot caught on something, a robe or some other discarded material, and she tripped with such violence that even the restraining hands couldn't keep her from once again hitting her head hard on something and falling into the black.

Soft voices were the first thing she heard, hours later, as she fluttered back to consciousness, her eyes pealing back.

"… I'm just worried about the boy, I mean he was a bloody mess when you brought him here." The first of the voices was soft and sweet but coated with concern. Madam Pomfrey.

Hermione stiffened slightly in her bed (_bed?_ She thought acknowledging the presence of the soft material beneath her) and quickly reclosed her eyes. She wanted to hear what she'd done to Malfoy.

"Language Poppy, but yes, he was 'a bloody mess' as you like to phrase it." Came the careful voice of Professor McGonagall. "I feel so sorry for him, I don't think Miss Granger was fully aware of the damage she was causing…"

Hermione felt the pleasure stir as an image lifted in her head of Malfoy bruised and bloodied, but she felt slightly irritated. What _exactly _had she done? She wanted to know.

"Yes the girl did look angry," the high voice of Professor Flitwick chuckled darkly but cut off swiftly with a cough. "But she should watch her temper, yes, watch it very carefully." He added hastily, what could only be a reaction to one of Professor McGonagall's famous glares.

Hermione fought the urge to blush. What had she looked like from the outside?

The brunet risked a peek between her lashes and saw the three figures standing a few meters away all gathered around a sleeping figure in a pale hospital bed. Hermione swiftly realised she was in the Hospital Wing. It was dark. Was it night-time? She peered at the figure through her lashes again but she couldn't see anything distinct abut the 'boy' under the covers. _Damn it!_ When was she going to see him? What if they fixed him first?

"Let me remind you that the safety and the well being of our students is not a laughing matter!" Professor McGonagall scolded.

There were a few minutes of silence.

"So how is he? Will he recover swiftly?" Professor Flitwick asked, trying to amend for his mistake.

"Yes, he will be fine" – Hermione felt a flare of anger at this – "he will have small scars at the beginning but they will slowly vanish. As for the bruises, they're already taken care of. I'm just worried about _him._ He's such a sensitive boy." – Hermione nearly snorted out loud at this – "I don't know what the incident will do to him…"

_I hope it gives him nightmares!_ Hermione shouted mentally.

"And how is Miss Granger then?" Professor McGonagall asked softly and as the three figures turned around, Hermione closed her eyes swiftly.

"No Miss Granger is in much better shape," Madam Pomfrey said smoothly but there was a slight weary edge to her tone. "I checked her head like you said, it was fractured, poor thing must have hit her head very hard, but, other than that and a few scrapes on her knuckles, nothing much." Madam Pomfrey seemed to hesitate for a second. "There _is _something I was worried about though…" again she hesitated.

"What is it Poppy?" Professor McGonagall asked quickly.

"I'm a little worried that Miss Granger might have been… attacked at an earlier date than today."

A moment of silence where Hermione fought against her muscles as they threatened to stiffen. Panic sliced through her. _Shit!_

"Attacked?" both Professor McGonagall and Flitwick chimed at the same time.

"Well you see… _look_," warm fingers brushed Hermione's chin, slowly pushing it slightly to put the scars into light.

The two teachers that weren't touching her, gasped.

"I noticed this scar," – her fingers brushed over Hermione's scared forearm – "whilst I was cleaning her hands and wrists and I found it peculiar. If was open and bleeding along with this one here." – Hermione felt a sting as Madam Pomfrey's lifter her arm and exposed the scar on her elbow – "But that wasn't what worried me most."

"Why what else?" McGonagall said in her pointy tone.

"Well… watch." Pomfrey murmured and Hermione felt the familiar tingle of her skin healing.

"_And?"_ Flitwick said after a moment before quickly falling silent after another glare from the deputy headmistress beside him. He cleared his throat. "Please continue." He amended.

"Now look what happens when I pull the skin either side of the gash." Madam Pomfrey continued, ignoring him. She did and Hermione fought the urge to wince at the pain.

Silence.

Hermione strained her ears to here anything from the teachers but there was nothing to hear and, for a brief moment, she thought the professors' had left

But then;

"But Poppy… what does this mean?" McGonagall's voice was weak and quiet.

"That's just it… I don't know." Madam Pomfrey healed the wound before putting Hermione's arm down again. "I have healed the wounds numerous times but they always seem to split. My only conclusion is that she received the cuts from an enchanted object that was designed not let the skin heal. Maybe via potion, or cream; I can't be sure. It is a major inconvenience for she loses a lot of blood when the cuts reopen." Hermione felt the air move next to her face as Madam Pomfrey indicated to her. "It was then that I started keeping an eye out and I found more. Out of the fifteen or so only five persisted to reopen. I… I think Miss Granger tried to heal them because with the amount of blood that comes out she wouldn't have… made it to the Great Hall otherwise."

Another everlasting pause, "but… Poppy, who would have done such a thing?"

"I don't know but," the witch took in a breath as if to give herself courage. "I think we should tell Dumbledore," she said firmly.

"Dumbledore is not present in the castle this evening," – Hermione heard the distinct sound of fabric moving and felt the old professor's fingers brush comfortingly on her calf – "but he will most certainly be informed via owl." McGonagall said, concern coating her voice. "In the meantime I would prefer this to remain quiet until Dumbledore returns. Naturally we will have to talk to Miss Granger but I feel that tonight is inadequate." McGonagall sounded slightly worried and – Hermione couldn't believe her ears – fearful? "And now, if you will excuse us, Filius and I, must leave. Goodnight Poppy."

"Yeh-yes goodnight Poppy," Professor Flitwick squeaked.

And shortly after that Hermione heard the huge door of the Hospital Wing swing quietly on its hinges.

* * *

><p>Tah Dah! i hope you liked it! i know i know i promised more than one scene of Draco but when i got to writing the last line i sort of thought "no but i like that ending!" so sorry! i'm planning to update soon (hopefully tomorrow) but sorry if it takes me a while longer i just get so caught up in things!<p>

sorry for the wait

i thank ALL the people who have decided to add me to their Favourites or the Author Alert Subscription you don't know what it means to meee!

love you allll

R.


	4. Ch4: Anger, Bitterness and Resentment

**Saaaaaaameeee asssssss beeeffffooooorreeeeee ;D**

hey sorry it came a little late but i tried to upload it last night but the server overloaded or something... don' ask... please.]

ok here it is; B)

* * *

><p>Hermione had deliberated on what had been said between the teachers, still feigning sleep, as Madam Pomfrey hovered over her, brushing her scars with potions and balms of all sorts. When she had had enough and, most importantly, finished deliberating she pretended to stir in her sleep and moaned realistically. It was then that she realised how tired she was. The minute her eyes flickered they began drooping again.<p>

"Oh Miss Granger!" Madam Pomfrey rushed over to her. "Are you ok?"

"Hmmm," Hermione said softly, letting her head flop back down. Poor Madam Pomfrey, she must be really worried about Hermione's scars to disturb a recovering student.

"Oh ok…" she mumbled. "Would you like a potions to sleep better?"

"No thank you," Hermione's lips barely moved as she answered the worried nurse, her eyes rolling back as she fell asleep.

* * *

><p>Somewhere in the depths of Hogwarts a dark figure stood in the shadows of a vacant corridor. His, for he had to be a male due to his broad shoulders, eyes and nose were obscured by the shadow that the top of the window shed for the male was so tall that he could rest the top of his head on the cold stone.<p>

The window of which he stood in front of held a view of the side of the Hogwarts Hospital Wing and because of the fact that big windows, like the very one he stood in front of now, framed each bed he had a clear view of the white room. He saw Madam Pomfrey running around anxiously treating the three students there, one of which was in full view of the shadow-masked eyes.

He watched her. He didn't care how long he had been away from the suspecting eyes that harassed him everyday. He needed to relax and the lovely brunet was providing just that. Relaxation.

He watched her, imagining himself caressing her sleeping shape lightly over those scars she had. How he would like that, especially the one that cut across her chest. He shuddered. He would like that.

In his mind the corner of his mouth lifted but he didn't dare do it in the flesh. He kept his face blank; to anybody it would have looked like he was just gazing into the distance absentmindedly. Not fantasising about Hermione Granger. He saw her stir and groaned softly, like a dog that had been sent to the side whilst mountains of sweet smelling food taunted him on the kitchen table.

He licked his lips; this time he actually did it, his warm saliva coating the yearning flesh. He felt her so vulnerable even though she was quite the distance away.

Lost in the vision he was having of touching the Gryffindor girl, he wondered idly what he would write in his next letter to her. He had already threatened the Weasley boy. Who next? Should he move back to Potter? Or stab at Weasley again maybe with a different time and location. Yes that was necessary. Always give proof. The Granger girl wasn't stupid.

But oh how he liked to torment her, to tease her. And then to watch it as she crumbled at his words… so vulnerable.

He shuddered again.

He had another image but in this one Granger she was responding. In the vision she was still asleep, eyes shut and face relaxed, but as his fingers traced the slightly raised scars on that deliciously soft skin, the scar _his _bird had made, that _he_ had made, the ones that made her his, she responded. She would moan and squirmed under his finders, her chest arching up, whispering his name urgently with those pink lips of hers.

He felt himself stiffen all over and bit his lip, putting his forearm on the wall above the window and his forehead on his arm.

He swallowed, sucking in a breath and holding it there.

And then with a sigh he relaxed. It was time to go.

With one last look at the sleeping girl, who had stopped faking and was genuinely in a soft slumber, he pushed off the cold stone and walked silently but swiftly into the darkness of the abandoned corridor, the words _sweat dreams_ ringing in his ears.

* * *

><p>Hermione awoke to a familiar voice whispering a few paces away.<p>

"SHH you're going to wake her!" Ginny hissed, her voice muffled.

"Nah Hermione sleeps like a rock," Harry's voice said gruffly shortly followed by the sound of fabric brushing together.

_What's going on?_ Hermione thought straining her ears a little more.

"Will you too slop that!" Ron hissed from somewhere off to her left. "Bloody disgusting!"

"Oh stop being touchy Ron!" Ginny giggled and just after she said it there was a high pitched squelching sound like a cheesy kiss from an old movie…

Hermione fought the urge to stiffen and listened further.

She heard the sound of rubbing skin and again that squelching sound. Shortly after that Harry gasped, his breath hitching causing Ron to make a disgusted sound from the left side of the room.

At this Hermione couldn't help herself. Her eyes flew open and her head snapped to where the sound was coming from. She tensed.

There, in a bed a few paces away, Harry lay on his back, his chest bare with Ginny bending over him, a tube in her right hand whilst her left covered her mouth.

Ginny suddenly caught Hermione's eye and frowned. "See I _told_ you she'd wake up!" Ginny removed her hand from in front of her mouth and smacked Harry on the shoulder.

Hermione immediately relaxed.

"Ouch Ginny!" Harry winced theatrically. "You're supposed to be _nursing_ me not making me worst!"

"Urgh!" Ron groaned, making a show of feigning vomiting on the floor.

Ginny ignored Ron, who had started muttering to himself, and scolded at the raven-haired boy lying practically beneath her. "Oh shush you!" she squeezed the bottle in her hand hovering it over his chest.

Hermione recognised the squelching sound she had heard before.

Brown cream-like substance oozed onto the boy's chest and both he and Ginny made gagging sounds.

"What-?" Hermione tried to prop herself on her elbows but cut off when she felt the familiar stretch in her skin that told her that she was about to burst a cut.

Just then Madam Pomfrey burst out of her office. "N-n-n-n-_no_ Miss Granger!" She rushed forward to push the bushy haired girl back down onto her back. "You will _not_ be moving whilst those ghastly cuts are not healed!" she went on, pushing Hermione's chin up to look at the cut on her neck, before checking her forearm, elbow and taking a quick peep down her collar at the one on her chest.

Hermione blushed, awkwardly pushing the witch away from her collar. "They're fine Madam Pomfrey!" she yelped, shooting a glare at the snickering Ron. "I can feel them!"

Madam Pomfrey frowned before shaking her head in disbelief. "You children! Always messing around! Only _Merlin_ knows where you got those ghastly violation to your skin!" she scolded as she circled Hermione's bed and went to look at Harry.

"Yeah only Merlin all right," Ginny muttered bitterly.

"Yes that's right!" Madam Pomfrey reached Harry's bed and smiled sweetly at the redhead. "But I do suggest rubbing a little harder into his shoulder like this:" Madam Pomfrey put her hand over Ginny's and pressed firmly onto Harry's shoulders, almost oblivious to Harry's grunts of pain. "Th_e_re you go!" she extended the vowel in the word to give more effect to what she was saying. "Excellent!" she smiled letting go of Ginny's small fingers and walking swiftly back to her office. "_Mister _Weasley!" she turned around just before her door and scowled at the sitting Ron. "For Merlin's sake stop _lounging_ around and see if you can make yourself useful by helping Mr Creevey and Mr Longbottom with their recovery!" she then spun on her heal and disappeared behind the black door.

The minute she was gone Hermione pushed herself up carefully and propped her back against the headboard, her eyebrows furrowing as she saw Ron get up. "What-" she stopped and re-phrased. "Neville and Collin are here?"

"Er yeh," Hermione looked over to see Harry biting his lip as he answered her.

"Wait why are you here?" she asked. Starting with question number one would help.

"Yeah my shoulder started acting up last night so Ron dragged me here." Harry rolled his eyes.

"And thank goodness he did!" Ginny protested against Harry's dismissal of the act. "According to Madam Pomfrey you had severe internal bruising when you hit that chair!" Ginny wasn't looking at Harry's face so she missed the pointed glares he sent her.

Hermione finally made the connection; Harry had hit a chair when he'd been blasted across the hall by the Ferret. "Malfoy did that?" she hissed, looking at his arm with rage in her eyes.

"Yeah but don't worry 'Mione," he hesitated. "Leave it be."

"Yeah we don't want what happened yesterday again…" Ron muttered and he forced a whimpering Neville to drink up a potion.

Hermione stared. What did he mean? "_What?"_

"Er well you kind of got…" Ginny answered, her eyes flashing anxiously to Harry and back. "Carried away…"

"Wha-what do you mean," Hermione was alarmed now. _Carried away?_ She thought panic rising in her stomach, _what?_

"Well whilst you were having raging fits against Malfoy we were all trying to get you off him and in the confusion of this you ended up beating the snot out of Colin and Neville," he said maliciously, peeping at her expression to admire how his words had effect on her.

"Ron." Harry warned, but Ron was too far gone to hear him.

"And after finishing them off you punched me in the face," – he indicated at a large fist shaped bruise on the cheek that had been facing the other way to the brunet – "and kicked Harry in the shin causing him to fall backwards into a chair!" He finished off with an evil, resentful grin. "Compliments to the psycho."

"That's _enough_ Ron!" Harry barked firmly, his eyes on Hermione's tear stricken face.

"She didn't do it on purpose!" Ginny scowled at her brother. "Just ignore him 'Mione."

But Hermione wasn't listening; she was staring at the sleeping figures of her fellow Gryffindors' that _she_ had hurt.

"What about M-M-Malfoy?" she stuttered, begging for something that would ease the horrific feeling that was starting to form in her chest. Guilt.

"What _him?_ He only got a bruise!" he leaned in evidencing his words. "The one you gave_ me_ was worst than _his!"_

Ginny gasped at his malice.

Hermione felt her heart throb as the words from last night sprung into mind, now making perfect sense;

…_I'm just worried about _him_. He's such a sensitive boy… I don't know what the incident will do to him…_

Hermione shuddered. They had been talking about Collin. She looked over to the white bed, trying to recognise the features of the young photographer through the swollen mess. "Colin? Neville…?" her voice was barely a whimper.

"Don't bother," Ron snarled turning back to the slightly less deformed figure of Neville. "If I were them I wouldn't want to see you, the girl that _deformed_ their faces! So just leave them in peace!" His voice was full of anger, bitterness and resentment and Hermione felt herself shrink away from him as tears streamed down her cheeks, stinging at the cuts on her cheek and neck.

"_Ron!"_ Harry snarled, pushing up off the bed before wincing and falling helplessly back down again.

_Harry!_ Hermione's mind yelped as she saw his face contort in pain. She had done that to him. Guilt rose high in her chest until it threatened to choke her.

Harry relaxed in his bed and looked warily over to the brunet, his eyes widening when he caught her looking mournfully at him. "Hermi-!"

But it was too late; Hermione had already sprung out of bed, ignoring the throb in her cuts, and was sprinting out of the Hospital Wing. She heard Harry calling frantically for her through the door but just kept running. Running until she smacked right into someone, bursting the cut on her cheek painfully.

Before she could even open her mouth the figure chuckled. "Well look if it isn't my dear friend Granger!"

Hermione snapped her head up, hearing the familiar drawl to the voice, to see none other than Draco Malfoy.

"Beat up any other innocent bystanders lately, _Grane-jer!"_ he sneered, smirking widely. Then his eyes caught on something. "Wow looks like the bystander was _feisty!"_

"Shut up you _ferret!"_ Hermione cried, thumping her fist on his chest and wiping the back of her hand across her scarred cheek in an effort to stop the stinging caused by her tears. She pulled her hand back into view and yelped. Gleaming crimson blood was now streaked across Hermione's, suddenly, surprisingly pale arm. She whimpered, her knees half buckling. In spite of herself, Hermione found that her hand shot out to grasp his arm when she buckled, not the beam that was so conveniently there, but the ferret she had wanted so much to see hurt. She was surprised to find his arm hard with lean muscles.

"What in Merlin's name are you doing Granger!" Malfoy scolded awkwardly as Hermione buckled again, this time her knees almost hitting the floor. He raised an eyebrow, "faint at the sight of blood do we now frizz ball?"

"Shut up! This is all your fault!" she hiccupped as more tears stung her gash. She felt lightheaded. How much blood was she losing?

"So it's _my_ fault that the minute you see an innocent person you have to violate their personal space and hit them to a bleeding pulp?" Malfoy chuckled darkly, enjoying himself. "_My_ fault that you find the loss of blood makes you nauseous? You have a strange mind frizz. Probably being weighed down by that nest you have on your head."

But Hermione could barely hear him anymore, with her fingers still clutching his arm she fell sideways, her back hitting the stone wall, pulling Malfoy down with her. She collapsed there barely able to breath straight, barely even conscious of the fact that the white haired boy was now pressed closely to her side, having stumbled and fallen to his knees beside her. Nearly oblivious to his nervous calls to her through the haze she was in. Nearly.

"Granger! Granger!" she felt him shake her. "Wake up damn it!" he growled, irritated.

Hermione was starting to fade, so close to letting go and falling for the third time into the dark.

_What is up with me lately?_ She thought softly, her mind felt heavy from sleep. _I keep _fainting!

"Granger _listen to me_," Malfoy's voice was suddenly _close_, his cold lips brushing her ear. "You will wake up _immediately. Do you under-stand?_" his voice was strained, spoken through gritted teeth.

Hermione couldn't move. Desperate, she opened her eyes searching, but saw nothing. Everything was black. She opened her mouth and pulled her tongue away from the roof of her mouth. Immediately the blood that had been streaming down her face filled her mouth, she choked again, leaning forward over what could only be Malfoy's shoulder, and in a desperate attempt to get air in her lungs she swallowed some. Her blood tasted awful and the minute she swallowed she gagged violently but it was too late. It had gone down. Hermione's mouth opened again and she spat the rest of the vile crimson liquid viciously onto the boy's shoulder.

She heard him groan.

Immediate anger rose in her chest. Didn't he see she was chocking? Couldn't he see the blood?

"Can't breathe-" she had planned to say the words pointedly but as Hermione's throat cleared she felt an intense pain in her chest. She heard the boy beside her muttering low under his breath and recognised the spell he was casting. He was _healing_ her.

A few seconds passed. "_Damn!"_ he hissed and Hermione felt the soft shake in his arm as he punched the wall behind her. "Urgh _fine!_" he growled angrily. "Just try not to stain my robes Granger. You and your Mudblood!"

Suddenly Hermione was airborne, the only thing telling her that she wasn't dead being Malfoy warm arms wrapped securely around her limp frame.

* * *

><p><em>yayayayay! here you gooooo. sorry there aren't more places (as in settings) to my chapters it's just i seem to write loads to one setting and yeh...<em>

_anyway i was going to ask: OPINION! i need to know how long do you guys want my chapters! normally i go for about 1,000 to 2,000 words (like 1,893 or something) but i need to know if the chapters are too long or too short. yeh if you review tell me how many words roughly you would like in the next one.  
><em>

_anyway so do you like the twist with Neville and Collin? i know it's mean but i needed something for Malfoy to annoy her with! i'm sorry! i feel sorry for for them i really do!_

hope you liiiiiiiiiiiked it!

R.

p.s i just realised now that i've been spelling 'brunette' wrong! woops! i've been spelling it 'brunet' which is the french neutral/male version! hahaha oops. i'll correct it from now on but i won't bother editing the previous chapters. just know that i HAVE realised and am going to change it. again; woops!


	5. Ch5: Meetings, Blood and Truces

**as always: same as before**

Hey guys! sorry for the lack of Dramione romance in my chapters so far but don't worry they're warming up as you will see at the end of this chapter... (evil smile)

ok sooooo enjoy B)

* * *

><p><strong>A few days Prior;<strong>

Professor Snape looked intently at the dark figure in his classroom.

"She will come to you soon," the figure murmured. "And you must heal her."

"The 'Mudblood'?" the Professor, raised an eyebrow.

"Yes," the figure murmured.

"And _I _must heal her of the injuries'?" Snape picked up a herb and lowered it gently into the potion he was brewing with his wand. "The injuries _you_ made, _Dark Figure_?" he could not help but sneer the word. In case of anyone finding out about his regular encounters with the _Dark Figure_ through Occlumency Snape didn't allow himself to think of the boy's real name as he looked at the shadowed frame. It would get too risky if he did, especially with what the figure was planning. Of course he knew who the figure really was but it wasn't the case to think about that now.

"Yes," the boy muttered, annoyed at the Professor's tone.

"And what, may I ask, would make you think that I wouldn't heal her," he asked, positioning himself into the chair as he waited for the potion to settle. "Should you not have come to… warn me?"

"Because without my warning you wouldn't know an essential fact in ensuring she should live." The figure said a little arrogantly.

"Oh really?" the Professor, having relaxed his eyebrows, raised one again. "And what is that?"

"A Bezoar." He stated simply.

Both of Snape's eyebrows disappeared into his greasy hairline at this, his eyes though only betrayed mild interest. "You poisoned her as well?" the Professor looked the figure down.

"What you didn't think me capable?" the figure challenged.

"No. On the contrary," Snape's voice was coated only with faint interest. "I was wondering what motive is behind your actions. Surely not…"

"No, not that," he replied, seeing further into Snape's last comment.

"Then why?" Snape challenged smoothly.

"It is none of your concern, Severus." The figure said coldly.

"Fine," he snapped, angry at the arrogance. "Then forgive me for asking _sir, _but why don't _you_ heal her, having caused said injuries yourself?"

"Well that would destroy the purpose, wouldn't it _Snape?_" the figure drawled. It was strange how the relation between him and the Professor could change in mood so fast.

Snape glared, before parting his thin, pale lips slightly to expose his yellow-y gritted teeth and murmured; "naturally."

The figure nodded and turned to leave.

"When will I expecting this… visit," Snape said slowly in that nasal voice of his.

"Don't fret Severus, she will come when she is ready," he murmured, not even turning to the former Potions teacher. "Just _be prepared _with that Bezoar at hand or–"he cut off, looking back at the professor a light smile playing on his exposed lips. "Well let's just say it will be better for her if you do," and with that he stepped out of the gloomy dungeons to the safety of the unsuspecting eyes of the ignorant students.

* * *

><p><strong>Present day;<strong>

"Finnigan!" the Professor in black barked, flying forward to the boy who was now flushed red, his black cloak billowing behind him. "_How many times have I told you to listen in my classes Mr Finnigan?"_ the hooked nosed Professor snarled, leaning forward on the desk to that his black eyes were close to the boy's startled one.

Seamus leaned back slightly. He opened his mouth to answer but the Professor cut him off.

"_And how many times may, Mr Finnigan, have I landed you in detention for bringing these retched quills" _– Snape snatched the quill out of Seamus's hand savagely and whipped it sideways so it fell and clattered to the floor – "_that the WEASLEY twins oh so kindly encourage?"_

"M-m-m-many times P-Professor!" Seamus said shakily.

"And _you_ Mr Thomas!" the Professor's greasy hair whipped across his face as he snapped his head to face Dean in the seat beside Seamus. "_How many times have I asked you not to engage in conversation with Mr Finnigan?"_

"Many times Professor Snape," Dean wasn't stuttering but he was shaking madly as the Professor's dead eyes fastened on him.

"_Many times?"_ Snape hissed leaning closer to Dean.

"All the time." Dean amended fearfully.

"'All the time' _what_ Mr Thomas?"

"All the time _Professor Snape_!" Dean whimpered slightly.

"Detention for the both of you! And thirty points from Gryffindor" – he jerked up and, as he turned around, heard them groan from behind him. With a thin, devilish smile playing on his lips he looked over his shoulder – "_each."_

All the Gryffindors' present groaned.

The bell rang loudly and the professor turned to face the students. "I want a three foot essay on the _Cruciatus Curse_ by next lesson!" – a chorus of groans and protests from the class – "And I want to see Mr Finnigan and Mr Thomas's four foot essay" – angry protests came from the two Gryffindors' – "on how to _behave_ in my class on my desk _tomorrow morning_ and expect to see them here this Saturday at seven A-M on the dot."

"What! But Professor-!" Seamus protested but was once again cut off by the nasal voice.

"And as of today onwards I don't want to see you and Mr Thomas within a foot of each other. Do you under stand _Mister Finnigan?"_ he evidenced the name by going through all the syllables.

Seamus gulped and nodded, before turning to pack his bag sulkily.

It was his free period next and, as the class cleared, Snape made his way to his office opening the secret passage in the wall with a slight drag to his step. He had to mark some essays for his entire free period. He groaned.

On the other hand… Snape smiled thinly. He had Potter's to do too.

With a sigh the old teacher sat himself down in the chair behind his ink black desk, opened his draw and fished through the discarded pieces of paper, pausing slightly when his fingers caught on an old letter to an old friend.

Snape looked at the letter, his long, bone fingers stroking the soft parchment. It felt like material to his skin now, crippled into softness through the years after he'd written it.

_Lilly…_

The door burst open, making Snape jump and spill a bottle of firewhiskey over his black lap. He scowled at the intruding liquid before looking up to see who had the _nerve_ to bother him. "There is such thing as _knocking_?" he hissed, irritably but then his eyes latched on the sight in the doorway.

There stood a distressed looking, platinum haired, Draco Malfoy, an unconscious, bushy haired, Hermione Granger held tightly to his chest.

Snape's thin, black eyebrows shot up. "Mr Malfoy," Snape said coldly, slamming the draw shut and waving his hand, carelessly restoring the firewhiskey into its bottle before dusting away the imaginary dirt from his trousers. "To what do I owe the pleasure?"

"Granger." Malfoy panted stepping inside and kicking the door shut with a SLAM before turning to the teacher's desk. "She decided to puke Mudblood on me," the boy sounded disgusted. Malfoy dropped the girls legs, still holding her back firmly to him, and wiped the professors desk of everything on it with his free arm.

Snape jumped up. "_Just what do you think you're doing?"_ Snape snarled, his expression livid. He circled the table so he could glare down at the youngest Malfoy.

"What does it look like?" he hissed, picking up the girls legs again and laying her on the wooden desk.

"Vandalising my office!" the Professor hissed back at him.

"Wrong answer _genius!"_ Malfoy knew he should bring more respect to his teacher, especially the vicious Professor that stood in front of him now, but he had just been barfed on by a _Mudblood_ and honestly nothing could make him give a shit.

"Mr Malfoy," Snape said this slowly trying to measure his anger. "Get yourself and Miss Granger–" the Professor cut off and choked on the words. He had been so angry he had nearly forgotten…

Pretending that his pause was due to one of Miss Granger's sudden violent spasms, Snape glared at his favourite student, only now realising that the boy was glistening with crimson blood. "Fine," he growled, circling his desk again so he was standing on the struggling girl's other side.

"Thank you Mr Malfoy, you can leave but before you do I want to know why on _earth _your first thought upon seeing a bleeding student was 'Professor Snape!' and not 'Hos-pi-tal Wi-ng'" he snarled.

Draco didn't answer he just stared down at the thriving Granger, a plan stirring in his head. Should Granger survive, he would never let her forget this.

Snape pulled up the sleeves of his shirt and bent down to have a look at the cut that was streaming blood down the brunette's cheek, neck and quickly drenching his table. Plucking out his wand from his robes he muttered a few counter curses, none of them really having any effect on the slightly-too-crimson liquid.

"What's wrong with her?" Malfoy couldn't tear his gaze off of the thriving figure.

Snape sent him a frustrated look. "She's bleeding to death." He replied bluntly, whipping around so that his back was facing the two, yanking open draws hurriedly, for something, anything. Pulling out the final draw he saw it; the tiny shrivelled piece. His eyes flashed to the girl on his desk. He sighed. _Looks like I'm going to need that Bezoar after all…_

* * *

><p>Again Hermione acted on impulse more than thought. Her arms shot out and she grasped at the first thing she could catch. Malfoy's neck.<p>

Her stomach flipped. _What the hell are you doing!_ A voice shrieked in her head, and Hermione was surprised to hear the voice loud and strong as opposed to how weak she really felt. But she didn't care.

As crazy as it sounded she knew that there was some slither of hope that Malfoy was going to take her to somewhere safe, somewhere where the pain would go away. And even though that was highly unlikely, thinking of his hatred towards her, but it was still better than no hope at all.

"I-I," she choked. "Can't–"

"Yeah I know Granger you can't breathe," he panted. "I'm trying."

Hermione was surprised, and annoyed to hear the same arrogance in his voice that he normally used.

If she could see she would have glared.

"Merlin though Granger! You're _heavy!"_ he growled.

Ignoring the last part Hermione shook her head. "I can't," a stream of blood erupted from her mouth and all she could do was to try to aim it away from them.

"Fuck Granger!" Malfoy's voice hitched in panic. She felt the air rush past her faster as he picked up speed. Where was he taking her? She could have sworn the Hospital Wing was closer.

"See!"

"_What?" _Malfoy sounded stunned.

"I can't–" she spluttered on more blood. "See–" just then she had a coughing fit.

"You can't _see?"_ Malfoy appalled. For a long second Hermione felt his gaze on her. "Merlin Hermione who did this to you?"

Hermione felt herself stiffen at the sound of her name on his tongue. It sounded foreign but the way he said it made it softer, sweater. The only thing that surprised her more than the sound of her own name was the softness in his voice. Was he truly sorry? Hermione didn't know and wasn't surprised to acknowledge that she might never.

The wind zoomed over her even faster than before and the more it did the more the brunette was sure they weren't going back to the Hospital Wing.

"Where–?" Hermione tried but was cut short by Malfoy.

"Snape's office," he snapped rudely.

"Wha–?" she coughed hysterically into his neck.

"Please Granger, _please_," he whined. "These are new robes."

Hermione managed to clear her throat enough to speak. "Shove a sock in " – _cough, cough, cough, cough _– "it M-Malfoy."

He chuckled, low. "Chocking on her on blood, sure, but _God forbid_ Granger not being able to respond with her usual vigour! You know if I didn't already know what you were like when you could breathe straight I'd be wondering what you're really capable of doing when you're well…"

Hermione felt his cold lips brush her temple and shuddered. Was he serious? Where did 'Mudblood', 'fat' and 'ugly'?

"B-back o-off Mal–" but just as she said it she threw up, the gulp of blood she had swallowed earlier.

"Oh thank _Merlin!"_ Malfoy groaned in relief, and before Hermione could ask she saw. Professor Snape's office door.

"What," she spluttered, "is he going to do tha–?" again she had a coughing fit but this time it wouldn't stop.

"Hang on Granger!" Malfoy huffed, his process slightly slower because of his fatigue.

But Hermione could've sworn she was going blue. "Can't–" she tried to explain that she couldn't breathe for the third time but all that escaped were more coughs and soon enough her body couldn't take it anymore. She fainted… for the third time in two days.

* * *

><p>Everything hurt. A dull, throbbing ache was pulsing over Hermione's skull and zapping through her temples. Her head hurt <em>so<em> much! Unable to open her eyes straight away, Hermione listened. There was a soft sizzling sound coming from her left along with a quiet clanking sound. _Great,_ she thought sarcastically at the lack of help but stopped when her head gave another painful throb. Again, trying to figure out where she was, the brunette flexed her fingers tentatively. Her skin suddenly warmed at the feel of the soft covers enveloped her. Hermione's head moved routinely to feel the softness of the material there. A pillow. She moaned softly, enjoying the sensation. Was it possible that it had all been just a dream?

A stab of pain.

_Nope,_ she winced. _All real all right._

"Where am I _now?"_ she whined softly, trying in vain to keep the thought in her throbbing mind. This couldn't be the Hospital Wing; it was too soft.

"My bedroom," a voice drawled from the corner the sound was coming from.

Hermione's eyes flew open and she sat up too suddenly, only to have herself blinded and fall back onto the pillow. She groaned, closed her eyes, and retried, propping herself on the headboard.

"Good morning Mudblood," Malfoy's voice drawled again.

Hermione put two fingers to each temple, peeping through her eyelashes to glare but froze when she saw him. Malfoy stood there, near the foot of the bed, brewing spoon in hand dressed in nothing but his Slytherin trousers. She stared at his pale, bare chest, laced with the same lean muscles she had felt in his arms when he'd held her. What the hell did he wear that hid _those? _Hermione couldn't get her head round how his proportion changed when his shirt was off.

"See something you like?" Malfoy smirked at her.

"What in God's name are you wearing!" she hissed, ignoring his remark.

Malfoy looked down at himself, with exaggerated confusion. "Pants," he said simply. Looking at her, his face broke into a devilish grin. "Why? Do you want me to take them off?" he purred seductively.

Hermione glared, her eyes widening in shock as he reached for his belt buckle. " _What? No!" _she hissed appalled. "I just meant why aren't you wearing a shirt?"

"Oh come on Granger," he purred, a slight smile mocking his pale lips. "Wouldn't the Gryffindor Princess _love_ to get her hands on me?" he liked his lips slowly, enjoying her reaction.

"You're unbelievable!" she growled, fury and disgust rising.

"So I've been told," he smirked, turning back to what looked like a potion. "Oh and I had to burn my shirt due to all the mud blood that you choked up on it."

Hermione ignored this. "Why am I here?" she huffed instead, watching the temper and sending dirty looks at all the green in the room. She was definitely in Malfoy's room.

"Well, since I had the pleasure of having you try to _bleed to death_ on me whilst I was, conveniently, ditching Defence Against the Dark Arts, making you potions, to get you better so as to prevent any future bleeding to death on any other innocent ditching student, has become my detention." The words tumbled out of his mouth fast and smooth, impressive for somebody that had to think that fast.

"But surely they wouldn't choose _you!"_ she protested angrily. "The person that so _happens _to be the most likely person to finish me off!"

Despite the insult, Malfoy couldn't believe that the girl hadn't called him a ferret or a spoiled brat. "Well the _person_ also _happens_ to be the best at Potions after Potter and yourself." he added smoothly.

Hermione's anger blanched a little as the compliment sank in. Had Malfoy really complimented her? Or was there mockery behind it? None the less she was quickly back up with her next question. "Well why didn't they just let Harry do it?" Even with his retched _Prince _he was better than _Malfoy._

"Because Scarface _Potter _has only been any good since the beginning of _this _year whilst I have been on your heals since the first lesson." He answered matter-of-factly, his stuck-up tone hitting a nerve somewhere in Hermione. She rushed to protect her friend but her anger at Harry and his book faltered her attempts.

"Well at least he's _trying_ finally," she muttered bitterly.

"Is that _resentment_ I hear in the every pure _Granger's_ voice?" Malfoy said, placing a big white palm on his chest in mock shock. "What is it?" he persisted; "the wee Mudblood can't stand a little competition?" he teased in a voice, commonly used to talk to infants.

"Of course I _don't mind competition!" _she snarled angrily.

"Oh so you're just jealous?" he said lightly, his arm moving to stir the bubbling liquid in his caldron. He had his back to her now but still managed to show her his smirk.

"I am NOT jealous!" she fumed.

"Then what is it?"

"Tha-That is _non of your business!"_

"Oh come on _Granger!"_ he whined, teasingly. "Loosen up and tell Drakie about all your petty Mudblood problems." His voice was tinted with sarcasm.

"Shut up you ferret!" she hissed, glaring.

"Don't call me a ferret," he snapped, irritably, over his shoulder.

"Why _ferret?_ Does the little white _ferret_ not like to be called a _ferret?"_ she emphasised each time she said it with a snarl. "Despite the fact that a _ferret_ is what he is? Don't you agree _ferret?"_

"Shut your, insignificant, trap, _Mudblood,"_ he glared.

"_Don't call me a Mudblood!" _she hissed, her temper rising.

"Don't call me a ferret," he returned with a shrug.

"_Fine!"_ she spat, crossing her arms in front of herself, daring him with her expression. "Let's make a truce."

"No," Malfoy picked up a small timer, twisted the knob and sat himself in the chair, leaning back and eyeing her over the now levitating alarm clock with a crooked grin on his face, eyes glistening like the evening star. "Let's make a bet."

* * *

><p><em>there you gooo! all warmed up and ready for trouble... or not? ;D<em>

_lemme kno bout ANYTHING and please review!_

_loooooveeeeeee_

R.

p.s sorry if Snape was out of character. i tried.


	6. Ch6: Deals, Consequences and Sparks

**erofeb sa emaS (- it says 'same as before)**

Hey guys! two days huh? i dunno, loosing track of the days now.

well here it is: enjoy!

p.s lemme kno who you think should win! either way it will be equally Dramione-ish!

* * *

><p>"A <em>bet?" <em>Hermione repeated incredulously.

"Yeah you know, risking something, an item or money, against someone else's on the basis of the outcome of a future event?" Malfoy smirked at how smart he sounded.

"_I know what a bet is!"_ the brunette hissed, fixing him with a deadly glare.

"Then I'd like to make one," the blond smirked.

Hermione glared.

"Easy lioness," Malfoy chuckled. "So this is how it's going to be: you lay off calling me a Ferret and I'll lay off calling you a Mudblood." He said simply.

Hermione looked at him incredulously again, fighting the urge to laugh. "That's called a _deal,_ not a bet you _moron!"_ she snorted, half irritated at his ignorance.

"No it's a bet," Malfoy leaned forward, putting his elbows on his knees, and lowered his voice, hauntingly. "Because I _bet_ you won't be able to do it." His voice lowered still, teasing her. "I _bet _you'll cave before I do." The corner of his pale lips lifted.

"Oh really?" Hermione snorted, raising an eyebrow at this.

"Yes really." Malfoy grinned.

"You _really _think you're going to beat _me _on _self-control?"_ Hermione couldn't help it she let out a laugh.

Malfoy grinned again. "You under estimate me, Granger," he leaned forward in the chair, propping his elbows on his knees and put his chin on his fists.

"No, I estimate you _perfectly!"_ she hissed, rolling her eyes at his arrogance. "You are a;" she put her hand out and counted off the words on her fingers, "foul… loathsome…" the brunette pursed her lips and rolled her eyes towards the ceiling in mock thought, "evil…" she nodded, "little… cockro–" she stopped, pretending to deliberate. "No. You're not a foul, loathsome, evil little cockroach who is incapable of feeling human emotions that have anything to do with being good and nice; you are a foul, loathsome, evil little _ferret_" again she counted off her fingers, leaning in on the word she wanted to dig at him, "who is incapable of feeling human emo–"

But the blond was speaking over her now and she had no choice but to cut off. "Oh so _I'm_ the one who is incapable of feeling human emotions?" his voice wasn't angry but wasn't irritated. Was he… _amused?_ "Look who's talking? The girl whose best friends are books and has the hots for a Weasel!" he sneered. "If anybody doesn't have _human_ emotions that person is _you!"_

But at this it was Hermione's time to speak over him though he didn't stop talking like she had. "Do _NOT_ call Ron a Weasel, you insensitive little–!"

Malfoy launched himself across the room and pressed his palm over her mouth, clicking his tongue at her. "Failing on your bet already, Granger?"

Hermione slapped his hand away, fiercely. "Don't touch me," she snapped.

"Ooh, somebody a little touchy about skin contact," he leaned forward smirking.

"I am _not_ touchy about skin contact!" she protested.

"You are with me," he persisted, smirking widely.

"Because you're an inconsiderate," she thumped her fist on his bare chest at every word, "incorrigible, self-centred,

"Granger, will you st–!" his voice sounded vaguely annoyed and this made Hermione's anger flare.

"Bullying!" she screeched, aiming for his face and even more determined when he dodged and grabbed her wrist. "Unbelievable–"

"GRANGER!" Malfoy's free hand jumped up and pressed over her lips again, his voice still sounding annoyed but the smile playing on his lips spoke otherwise. "Will you stop hitting me!" he grinned. "Or trying to rather," he added, his eyes wandering down to her waist and back up almost as if to check it was still _Granger _there.

"I told you not to touch me!" she hissed into his palm seeing as her right hand was trapped in his grasp and her feeble left had somehow managed to get stuck under his arm.

Malfoy smirked and purposely leaned toward her slowly. "What if I _want_ to touch you?" he teased. Of course Draco Malfoy had no desire to touch the Mudblood he just liked to see her get angry.

Hermione squirmed, managed to free her hand, and pushed his hand to the side. "Why would you?" she spat at him, trying in vane to free her stronger hand. "I'm just a poor little _Mudblood_ that is so _filthy_ she doesn't deserve _anyone's_ attention let alone one of a _pureblood _such as yourself!"

He leaned forward, his nostrils flaring as an expression of disgust and annoyance claimed his features. "Don't be so sarcastic Granger." He dragged her closer forcefully, ignoring the weak attempts to push him off from her left hand. "You should be honoured to be touched by a pureblood. Especially one like me, whose purity goes back in generations."

Hermione immediately recognised the old Malfoy, the _familiar _one. "Shut up Malfoy!" she hissed, pushing herself forward so she was right in his face. "The only _honour_ I will feel in your presence is the one to have out the room! Because you are nothing but a snobby rich kid, you and that _coward _you call a father–"

So fast that Hermione almost missed it, Malfoy's pale, stony palm whipped across her face, hard. She felt the stab of pain as her nearly healed cut broke open, the sudden change of the direction of her face causing the one on her neck to burst to. She bit back a yelp.

"Don't you _dare_ call my father a coward!" Malfoy snarled.

Hermione pulled back to look at him, her left hand, as the right was still in his grasp, flying up to touch her flaming cheek. Hermione felt her fingers quickly coat with hot blood as a sensation took over her; she was beginning to feel light headed again. She pulled her hand back into view watching as the crimson liquid glittered in the light. Sudden rage filled the harmless looking brunette. "You hit me!" she hissed.

"Ah _shit,_" the blond sighed, catching sight of the blood and shifting slightly as he pulled his wand out of his back pocket, his anger fading… for now.

"You_ hit _me!"she said again, this time, thumping him on the chest with all the force she could muster with her left hand, causing his wand to jerk slightly.

"Damn it Granger!" he scolded her, readjusting his wand, letting go of her right hand and wrapping his fingers, rather gently, around the uninjured side of her neck in an attempt to keep her still. He shook her slightly and looked into her eyes. "Don't. Move." He said slowly.

But Hermione was past listening. Again, _"you hit me!"_ she leaned forward and snarled at him.

"_GRANGER!"_ Malfoy barked, his voice so strong and harsh, Hermione winced. "Stop. Move-_ing!"_ he fixed her with a glare before looking back at her wound that, to her surprise, wasn't bleeding too much.

But of course Malfoy had to go and ruin that one advantage.

He muttered something inaudible which must have been a Healing spell. Something must have gone wrong for the minute the word left his mouth the gashes started oozing blood at three times the speed, the one on her cheek proceeding to quickly fill up her mouth again and make her choke. The blood was still vile, but better than it had been before. Never the less, the symptoms were the same as previous.

Hermione choked violently, buckling under Malfoy and thrashing madly until she felt the soft sheets underneath her.

Malfoy swore. "_Anapneo!"_ he muttered shortly after, and Hermione's throat immediately cleared. "_Merlin _Granger would you stop swallowing your own _blood_ and focus on breathing straight!" he growled, she felt him shuffle again and press something to her lips. "Eat it," he murmured. "It will let me cure your wounds," he continued as the brunette shot him a nervous glance through her long lashes. He sighed when her lips remained closed. "Trust me." He murmured.

Hermione's eyes widened slightly at the sight of the pleading in his eyes. There was nothing else there. No bitterness, anger, irritation or disgust. Just honest pleas for her to trust him and, to her surprise, she did. Her now clear mouth opened and she swallowed the ball-like object, her eyes remaining all the while fixed on Malfoy's.

She swallowed the bulge slowly, recognising it to be a Bezoar, feeling it push down her throat uncomfortably, and heard in fall into her empty stomach with a low _thunk_. How long had it been since she'd eaten?

"There," he muttered. "Was it so hard to put down your guard and listen to me?" he lifted his wand and muttered another Healing spell. Hermione's wounds headed instantly this time. "Now," he leaned back so that she could sit up. "Onto the bet," he smirked.

"I am _not_ doing a bet with you Malfoy," she hissed.

"Oh yes you are,"

"And why _would_ I?"

"Because I said so,"

"Merlin and you even have the courage to _deny_ that you're a spoilt brat!"

"I'm not a spoilt brat!"

"Yes you are!"

"Do you _want_ me to hit you again?"

"Yes so my cuts will open again and maybe this time you can _kill_ me!"

"Urgh! We're getting beside the point!"

"Oh so there's a _point _to this conversation _after all?"_

"The bet!"

"I've already told you Malfoy I'm not doing that bet!"

"Why?"

"Because you wouldn't hold out _five minutes_ without calling me a Mudblood so making a bet is a waste of my time!"

"Why what _important_ things do you have to do? Beat up some more pedestrians then faint some more?"

"Why you–"

"Shh stop! Forget I said it! Urgh Granger why do you have to be so difficult!"

"_Me_ difficult! You hypocrite!"

"Urgh ok, ok! I get it! Forget I said any of that! Now moving on to the bet–"

"I'm not doing it!"

"Will you just hear me out!"

"Urgh!"

"Please," he pouted.

Hermione looked up at him and saw the faint plea in his eyes, not quite as strong as the first but it was still there. "If I hear you out," she looked into his grey eyes, measuring the sincerity. "And say no all the same?" she paused. "Will you stop _pestering _me and just finish the damn nursing?"

He looked at her for half a second before answering slowly. "Yes."

"Then fine. Talk." She instructed.

He smirked. "I knew you'd come around,"

"Don't push it."

"Fine, fine! Right so this is how it's going to work: no 'Mudblood' and no 'ferret', obvious, but I also wanted to add some other stuff."

"Ok,"

"If your friends mock me," he grinned. "You have to stick up for me."

"And vice versa!" Hermione hissed.

Malfoy rolled his eyes, slightly irritated. "Naturally."

"What about the consequences?" she asked tentatively.

"Oh those? Well I have decided your consequence to be slavery for a month."

She paused, glaring. "You want me to be your slave for a _month_ if I slip up?" she hissed incredulously, horror seeping into her brain as to what he would make her do.

He nodded wickedly.

"Then no! No way in _hell_ am I doing that!"

"Don't worry," he smirked, not quite able to repress the happiness that came with the thought of Granger being his slave. "You get to chose my consequence."

Hermione raised an eyebrow; suddenly the whole prospect seeming more inviting. She opened her mouth and closed it again, rethinking and turning ideas around in her head. Suddenly her eyes lit up and she couldn't suppress her grin. "Want me," she beamed.

"_What?" _the blond blinked confused.

"If you cave first I want you to want me," she shrugged.

"What in Merlin's name–?"

"You will send me flower everyday, follow me in hallways, beg for me to be alone with you, flirt with me insistently, buy me presents; etcetera, et_cetera,"_

Malfoy looked at her, mouth slightly agape, half glaring half incredulous. "You… want me… to pretend… I have a… crush on you," he would have said it disgustedly if shock hadn't caught him hostage.

"No," she grinned. "Not pretend to have a _crush _on me; pretend to be _in love _with me."

At this Malfoy snapped effectively out of his trance. "_What?" _he hissed. "Are you out of your puny _mind _Granger?" he bounced back off the bed and glared at her. "There is-there is no way in–"

"Hell that you're doing that?" she finished for him, grinning at his reaction. "Not even if there's a chance that I get to be your slave for a month?"

"Not even then!" he hissed. "I wouldn't be caught _dead_ fancying a filthy Mudblood! Let alone a _Gryffindor!"_

Hermione's famous temper caught fire. "_Fine!" _she snarled. "Since I'm too _filthy _for you; the bet's _off!"_

"No," he leaned forward, shaking his head. "No, no, no, no don't think you can get off _that_ easily! The bet is_ on_, hell if it isn't, but you are changing your consequence!"

"To hell if I am!" she spat. "I'm not changing mine if your not changing yours!"

"I'm not!"

"Well neither am I!"

"_Granger!_"

"No!"

He sighed. There was no winning this. "Fine!"

"_Fine!"_

There was a pause, in which they both glare at each other, before Malfoy spoke again. "You think I won't do the bet now don't you?"

"To tell you the truth; yes"

"Well you're wrong!"

"Prove it then! Prove that you are right and I am wrong!"

"Oh I will!" he reached forward and extended his hand. "The bet is on, oh and we can't tell anybody about it," he grinned. "Still on?"

"_So_ is," And with that she gripped his big hand with her small one and muttered the spell that would tie them to their word, neither of them really realising what they had done until the colourful sparks erupted around their joint palms.

* * *

><p><em>Well there it is! don't forget to lemme kno who u think should wiinnn!<em>

_See you soon_

R.


	7. Ch7: Aches, Tremors and Surprises

**same as before B)**

Hey guys i'm sorry i haven't put this up sooner! it's been so busy! anyway i wanna thank all the people who reviewed on the bet (Merteuil, Artemis Sagittarius Malfoy, anna0728 and 9BlackXink9) and i wanna say that i... think i've decided who wil... hehehehehehe. but keep putting up ideas! who knows... i might change my mind B).  
>anyway so here it is:<br>sorry if it's a little slow in story line i'm working on it.  
>enjoy<p>

* * *

><p>The next morning was hell. When the awkward after-bet moment had passed and after Malfoy finally stopped grinning at his 'deception' in 'tricking' her; he had given her the potion he had been brewing and it had knocked the life out of her. She had managed to walk straight right until she reached the corridor outside, to her surprise and discomfort, the Slytherin Prefect's room ("So Malfoy's a Prefect now?" she muttered), before the slipping and sliding started. Miraculously, she had reached the dorm in one piece before collapsing straight onto her pillow and drifting off.<p>

The next morning had felt like her skeleton had walked out of her body, received ten to the twenty of Malfoy's stony slaps and promptly walked back in again. Her head was pounding, her heart slamming hard into her chest and just her whole _body_ was covered in a bone deep _ache_ that Hermione couldn't explain.

Hermione had felt the pain all through her dreams but been unable to get up to _do_ something about it, her joins and muscles so stiff she was afraid they might just snap if she moved, and had paid for her pain-related laziness with a troubled and sleepless night.

Naturally that wasn't the worst part. Whilst she slept, Hermione had been constantly overcome with a deep clenching in her stomach and the need to vomit so strong that if she hadn't known any better she would have said she was experiencing a Hangover. She hadn't moved all night, even to deal with the urge to vomit, and wanted to jump up and kill Ginny when she heard her voice the next morning.

"Hermione?"

"Hmm?" the brunette grumbled as her best friend sat down on the bed beside her.

"Hermione are you ok? Where have you been?" Ginny put a feather-light hand on her shoulder.

Hermione was about to tell her about Malfoy's detention nursing thing when the memory of the bet popped back into her mind and she groaned.

"Oh 'Mione," Ginny murmured. "It hasn't been your couple of days huh?"

Hermione nodded into her pillow and Ginny sighed.

"Come on, let's get you down to Breakfast,"

* * *

><p>Draco stared down at his food, slightly angry.<p>

Up until a few minutes ago the circle of Slytherins' around him had joyfully been talking about his favourite subject, Quidditch and all worries about having to defend Granger had been all but dismissed from his mind. That is until Potter ruined it, naturally.

The doors of the Great Hall had burst open, right when they where comparing brooms, and that redhead Weasel had walked in having a loud conversation with Scarface about just that.

"I wonder what's up with Hermione?" he all but shouted, looking around for her. "You think she's actually ill or–"

"Ron!" Potter hissed in a more hushed tone. _"Will you keep your voice down?"_

"What?" Weasel blinked stupidly.

Potter spoke even lower then so only parts of his sentence were audible. "You've… shouting… since – got out of the… tower"

"I'm not shouting?" Weasel boomed. "I was just worried!"

"… should be worried... –out h–… since you… the one… _upset _her," Potter's voice was low but Draco understood.

So the Weasel had upset her?

"I was only putting out a point," Weasel muttered, his voice still loud.

It was at this point that Pansy had thrown herself right onto the argument he'd been dreading all breakfast.

"Oh so Granger's ill now?" she snickered. "Must be exhausted! What with all those punches she threw around! The bitch! Couldn't punch a target if it grabbed her by the writs and started hitting itself!"

Crabbe and Goyle howled beside him but he didn't join in, his gaze flashing nervously to his right palm. Draco was only too familiar with the enchantment Granger had used to seal their deal and knew that if his hand started trembling, for no apparent reason, it meant that he was dangerously close to losing the bet.

He waited.

Nothing. He sighed in relief.

"Drakie?"

Draco looked up to see Pansy raising an eyebrow at him. "Um sorry," he cleared his throat, swiping his index finger briefly over his temple. "Headache. Um what-what were you saying?"

"About the fight?" she said tentatively, sharing looks with Blaise. "You know when the Mud–"

"Oh yeah!" he said too quickly, chuckling lamely, relaxing again when his hand stayed firm. Blaise raised an eyebrow beside him.

"Hey," he tapped Draco's shoulder when Pansy stopped giving him looks. "Are you alright? I mean… you seem a little," he paused. "Flustered."

"Look," the blond shot a glare at Pansy. "Can we drop this?"

Hermione steadied herself against the redhead beside her. She was now newly dressed in the Gryffindor uniform, seeing as the one she had been wearing before had gotten crumpled in her sleep, and felt just as God-awful as she had during the night.

Ginny's headed whipped up as she read the time on the grandfather clock, causing her flame-like hair to hit the back on Hermione's throbbing head. "C'mon 'Mione we have to get down to breakfast," she murmured, looping the brunette's arm over he shoulder and helping her down the steps of the common room.

"What's you problem today, Draco?" Pansy frowned. "You've been acting all stiff since you sat down."

"Yeah man, you've been acting real we–" Blaise started.

"My problem _exactly,"_ Draco hissed at Pansy. "Is that you've been on my _arse_ for _six years_ now and to be honest I'm quite _sick_ of it!"

Pansy gasped.

"Further more," he snarled. "I have to have a conversation with you _every single time _anything about the filthy little Mu–" Draco didn't choke on the word because his hand had now started trembling so hard that he could barely hold his fork straight, he choked because the minute the arrangement of the sentence finalised in his head the walls of his throat constricted and all he could do was splutter hysterically.

"Easy man," Blaise slammed his open palm repeatedly on the choking boy's back. "You too Pansy, ease up a little. You guys can make up later," he added when Pansy opened her mouth. "He's just s-stressed," Blaise stuttered, only now catching Draco's murderous look. _Oh shit,_ he thought as Pansy's expression brightened.

Draco glared murder at his friend but couldn't summon the energy to say anything. Instead he turned back to his food and wondering what had happened with his throat earlier, as he had been about to speak. Surely he would be _able_ to say 'Mudblood'. How on earth would he _loose_ otherwise? _Oh well, _he shrugged it off, stabbing his chicken breast with a little too much force, _must have swallowed wrong. _And with that he proceeded to eat.

* * *

><p>Hermione's hand was trembling, hard, and despite the fact that her head felt like somebody was playing football with it she couldn't help the grin that spread on her face.<p>

The Betting Curse was working. And by its results Malfoy was having trouble with his side of it. She grinned wider.

"What's up with you?" Ginny couldn't help her smile either when she saw her best friend suddenly cheery.

"No it's just–" Hermione was about to tell her about the bet but the second she tried her tongue grew suddenly dry and all she could do was gag silently. Swallowing hard on her dry mouth, the brunette shook her head slightly and rephrased what she had wanted to say in her mind. Immediately her mouth became moist again. "Don't worry about it, Gin," she winked at her friend. "Later."

They had reached the Great Hall by then and Hermione insisted that she walk without the red head's support.

The first thing she heard when she walked in was a loud bang of a cough and her eyes flew up immediately to see the platinum blond himself being patted, hard, on the back by a frowning Blaise Zabini, who then turned to look at pug-face-Pansy. He must have said something inconvenient because Malfoy then started glaring daggers at him causing the boy to visibly splutter and fall silent.

Hermione could barely hold her grin off her lips so turned her head in another direction. _Looks like this bet will be easier than I thou_–

"'Mione!" Something hit her, hard, cutting off all thought. The impact would have sent her flying had long arms not wrapped around her almost immediately after the clash. Despite the fact that Hermione's balanced had been restored, her legs gave in suddenly, sending both her, and the person hugging her, stumbling backwards uncontrollably until whoever it was grabbed onto something that saved the both of them from the floor.

Hermione gasped, sucking in a violent breath. "What in Merlin's–" her eyes bulged. Hermione's attacker had just pulled back so they were in her view and even though his expression was creased in hysterical laughter, a wide grin plastered there, she would recognise him anywhere. _"George?"_

"The one and only baby," George Weasley grinned down at her, raising an eyebrow. "Ya miss me?" he pulled her up so she was standing straight.

"George!" it all suddenly hit her and with an exited giggle she launched herself at the older Weasley, wrapping her arms around his neck. "George you're here! George you're here! Wait," she pulled back to look at him. "You're _here?_ Why? Not that I don't want you here it's just a surprise, a nice surprise, and–"

George chuckled covering her mouth with his palm. "Do you ever stop talking Hermy?"

Hermione growled at the last bit, ever since the twins had found out about Hagrid's nickname for Grawp…

"Are you going to answer my question or not?" she replied moodily, putting her hands on her hips.

George chuckled and removed his hand from her mouth, spinning her round and looping her waist with his arm. "Well Charlie needed some help with the dragons in Romania and at first I liked it, but after a bit I realised, dragons weren't my thing. I told them I was going back but you know how much Fred likes the dragon stuff right? So I came home and well it got kinda lonely so I asked ol' Dumbledore if he'd lemme back in,"

"And he said yes?" Hermione said incredulously as the two circled the tables.

"Well yeah," he winked. "I guess he figured that if there was only one of us it would minimise the damage,"

Hermione giggled loudly, before catching sight of Ginny and turning on her. "And _you!"_ she said accusingly. _"You knew!"_

Ginny grinned toothily. "Well yeah."

Hermione mock glared at her before turning back to George again as he let go of her and sat down. "But George," she caught his attention almost immediately. "Your seventh year was _last_ year!"

"Yeah,"

"So how are you staying here if you finished last year?" she accused. "Don't tell me you're planning on taking your N.E.W.T.s?"

George laughed again, this time slightly more serious. "No, no I'm just staying here to help with the Quidditch set ups an' tha'" he grinned. "I'm practically a Professor,"

"No way!" Neville chimed in.

"Yes way," George grinned, again. "Merlin I'm starving," he added picking up a chicken leg and taking a bite.

Hermione's stomach growled longingly and she realised just how long it had been since she'd eaten.

There were Gryffindors' crowding around them now peering at George as he ate, all of them happy to have the school's prankster back. But no matter how much their happiness was contagious as Hermione looked back down at her empty plate something caught her eye that made her heat stop.

There, underneath the sharp end of her, gold, glistening knife was a small piece of paper, seven words written elegantly on the old parchment.

_I hope you haven't forgotten me._

_T.S.P_

And just like that Hermione wasn't hungry anymore.

* * *

><p><em>B) well there it is! hope you liked it! lemme knoooooooooooo!<em>

See you soon

R.


	8. Ch8: Worries, Homework and Thunder

**Same as before...**

Well here it is! sorry again for how long it took (to be honest i'd prefer if i could publish one every two days in the least) and thank you for the reviews! oh the reviews! such happiness they bring. **Alright i have a question for reviewers! **but i can't really put it at the top because it'll ruin the surprise (or make you more interested but i don't wanna risk it) so check the bottom for said question please.

Thanxs to: Artemis Sagittarius Malfoy, 9BlackXink9 and krista04 - you guys made me so happy when you reviewed!

ok i'm gunna love ya and leave ya now

Enjoy

P.s sorry that the talking bits are quite fast this is really just a warm up chapter for... later. hehehe

* * *

><p>Hermione hadn't been very present the rest of breakfast. She had stayed in her seat only because George had insisted but didn't eat anything, most of her attention focussed on the wall behind him.<p>

Ginny, who had been eying her best friend nervously, knew that when Hermione wore that expression it meant that she was thinking deeply about something and that she wasn't to be disturbed but there was something off about the brunette's expression that made it increasingly difficult for the redhead to keep her tongue. Nearly every time Hermione was thinking this deeply she always had a puzzled look about her; eyebrows knitted together, teeth chewing absently into her bottom lip, sometimes she even muttered to herself. But Hermione was doing none of that as she stared keenly at the wall behind George. She almost looked… scared.

There was something up. And Ginny _would_ find out; if it was the last thing she did.

* * *

><p>"Ok so I'll see you later," Ginny said in a small voice, snapping Hermione out of her thoughts.<p>

"Um yeah," she replied before turning on her heal and heading for her next lesson, Transfiguration.

Breakfast had passed very slowly due to the long awkward silence that had followed her 'absence' but at the time, Hermione wasn't too worried about what they thought.

T.S.P was back onto her, and Hermione didn't like that at all.

The cogs in her already busy mind were turning frantically. So he really could see her? Was he watching her right now? How on earth was she going to get a 'torture chair', as he had called it, and get it to do all the stuff he had asked? She guessed she was going to have to start with a chair but how was she going to get a chair without stealing it from Hogwarts? She couldn't just take one. And what about George? Was _it_ going to threaten him too?

There were so many questions buzzing around in her head that Hermione didn't even notice that there was someone in front of her until she bashed right into them.

"Oy!" the figure snarled. "Watch where you're going I'm a – oh! Well if it isn't Granger?"

Hermione's head snapped up to see Draco Malfoy towering over her, the usual smirk plastered over his thin lips, closely flanked by Crabbe and Goyle.

"And what is a fair Mu–witch such as yourself doing strolling around in this part of the castle?" he drawled.

"Transfiguration," she snapped shortly, the corner of her lips twitching as she caught his slip.

His eyes narrowed slightly as he caught the movement.

"Now if you'll _excuse _me I think I'd do better at getting there as fast as I can," she hissed, stepping sideways only to be cut off when Malfoy did the same.

"Yes because _God forbid_ Granger be late for anything," he sneered.

"Shut up Malfoy! Oh no wait you can't can you? Because _God forbid _that you don't act like an insolent prat half the time," she muttered, shoving hard against his shoulder and proceeding to her Transfiguration lesson.

"Don't turn your back on me Granger!" she heard Malfoy call after her.

"Watch me," she called back.

"Don't worry we'll get her later. Mudblood,"

_Thwack!_

"Ouch Draco!"

"Shut your mouth Crabbe!"

Hermione couldn't help but giggle as she heard the scene unfold.

"What the hell is your problem today, Malfoy?" was the last thing she heard before she turned a sharp corner and their voices disappeared.

_He sure is subtle;_ she thought, still giggling. _And Slytherins' are meant to be cunning?_

Hermione reached Transfigurations a minute late but was excused because of her previous illness. She murmured her Thanks and sat down next to Harry and Ron who both sent her awkward looks before looking back down at their parchments.

The rest of the day passed at a surprisingly slow rate for a Friday, and Hermione could only find it in herself to follow at the same pace things were going. Transfiguration let off its load of homework, a three-foot essay on the difficulty of transfiguring an inanimate object into an animate one, and some the rest of the subjects; the only class that really didn't was Charms because Hermione had already done the extra bit in her last homework that Professor Flitwick had decided to set.

Night came fast and soon enough she was left alone in the common room, Harry having left for Quidditch practice with Ron and Neville being down at the lake, to finish off her homework.

She decided to do the Transfiguration first to get it out of the way, for it was by far the longest, so set off to the library to confirm her ideas.

Five hours later and Hermione had finished her essay, with the slight change that her essay was four-feet long instead of three due to the fact that half way through _Transfiguring The Wild by Emeric Switch_ she found some extra information she couldn't resist adding.

By that time it had gotten too late to continue so she set off back to the common room, careful to avoid being caught by Filch at this dangerous hour. She muttered the password to the Fat Lady ("Abstinence") and entered the dark tower, her eyes catching immediately on the red flames that somebody had fed, what looked like not too long ago, her breath hitching slightly as she remembered the note she still hadn't disposed of. Quickly looking around she walked towards the heat, removed the small parchment from her pocket and let it fall into the hungry flames before turning around swiftly and heading up to the girl's dorm, not noticing that only now, after an abnormally long time, did the portrait of the Fat Lady swing shut…

* * *

><p>The next morning wasn't nearly as bad as the one before but Hermione's head still throbbed lightly from the late night. Quickly dressing she hurried to the Great Hall in time to catch a swift breakfast and a few looks from Harry, Ron and Ginny, before asking where George was ("He's helping Hagrid deal with some Blast-Ended Skrewts' for the first-years, Hermione are you alright? You look pale–") and rushing back to the library to deal with her Arithmancy homework. Being Hermione's favourite subject she finished in record speed, making her the first to enter for Lunch in the Great Hall. She ate fast and managed to escape the scene before any of her friends arrived.<p>

There was one last piece of homework she had to do and it was Astronomy. Having been set the day before Hermione had those episodes she hadn't had a chance to complete it. But to do that she needed to be up after hours, and she needed permission for that. So the rest of her time would be used to find Professor Sinistra who, to Hermione's displeasure, wasn't in the Astronomy tower where it would have been easier to find her.

Hermione searched the castle for her teacher, only managing to find her hours later just before dinner.

"Well why on earth weren't you at the set meeting?" Professor Sinistra asked looking down at Hermione.

"I was ill Professor," she said pleadingly. "If I could just have a note to use the Astronomy tower tonight I only need a few hours, please Professor,"

Professor Sinistra looked down at the brunette before her and sighed. "Very well then Miss Granger," she smiled as the girl sighed in relief. "I'll leave you with the keys," and with that she dropped the metal chain into Hermione's awaiting hands and disappeared down the corridor.

Dinner hadn't had any reason to be awkward since Hermione's face had turned back to its normal colour but still Harry and Ron kept sending her strange looks.

She finished eating and got up, anxious to get down to the Library as soon as possible. It was time to stop ignoring T.S.P.

Hermione was just about to leave when Harry addressed her.

"Um 'Mione?" he said tentatively.

She stopped and turned to look at him. "What's the matter, Harry?"

The raven-haired boy bit his lip. "Er ca-can me and Ron have a… word? With you?" he added nervously, easing out of his seat in a motion to follow her.

"Not now Harry I need to go to the Library before I do my Astronomy homework," she said apologetically. "Can it wait?"

"Um yeah," he sat down again. "Sure."

Though Harry didn't sound so convinced Hermione could waste any time. She had already wasted enough.

Knowing that she had little time, Hermione hurried down to the Library and quickly dove into the Enchantments section of the vast library.

This was going to be tricky, and the worst part? She would have to do it quick.

* * *

><p>The figure watched as his girl ran around the castle frantically, doing homework, stressing over her friends and looking for her teacher.<p>

She was so sexy when she was worried.

Yes he didn't regret sending her that note; it had sent her into a more determined state as well as making her look like _that._ So vulnerable...

He shuddered.

Again he was overwhelmed with the image of touching her. Too bad her scars were healed; it would have been a better effect if they had broken open when he touched her. Would have made him feel more powerful, stronger than her in all ways. She would have felt so helpless.

He shuddered again. _So, _so vulnerable…

But it was necessary to heal, necessary, otherwise she would not have survived for the plan. Yes the plan was of most importance.

He smiled softly, not caring to hide it from outsiders, there was nobody there. Everything was going according to plan. Well… nearly everything.

His expression darkened suddenly. There had been, and still was, a slight problem…

But he shook it off.

The problem would resolve itself.

He was sure.

He'd just have to give it time.

Time was the main ingredient.

It wouldn't just fall in place all of a sudden it would take time.

And he had time, plenty of it.

He looked down at Hermione, _his _Hermione, for she was _his_, and felt a wave of pity and excitement.

_Poor girl doesn't know what's coming at her…_

* * *

><p>Two hours later, Hermione sat slumped in the Library chair.<p>

She had searched through all the books she could find that hinted _anything _about enchanting a chair to hold a person still _or_ quiet. Let alone still _and_ quiet.

It was dark out, nearly midnight. She should head to the Astronomy tower.

The corridors were dark and as she crept up through them she could have sworn she heard footsteps behind her. Hermione's brown hair whipped her face as she looked around nervously. There had been movement she was sure of it, but as her eyes scanned over the darkness there was nobody there. She growled slightly and shook her head, cursing at herself for being so paranoid.

Hermione sent one more anxious look over her shoulder before walking into the moonlight and up the stairs of the Astronomy tower.

Hermione climbed the steps silently for what felt like a solid hour, being careful not to make her telescope bash against her stand. No doubt the noise would attract Filch and though she had the note, he was sure to take it away from her therefore rendering it useless for other teachers.

Her eyes had just about adjusted to the dark when a spray of light hit her strong in the face on the last step. She squinted and then froze.

The moonlight was pouring through crack in a wall near and as Hermione drew closer she noticed that it wasn't a crack at all. The door was ajar.

Fear gripped her and she fought the urge to gasp as her heart accelerated.

_Ok! Ok! Just the door, doesn't mean anybody's there, _she chanted to herself. _Calm down Hermione. Nobody's there… and even if there is for Merlin's _sake_ woman you've had to face worst in past!_

With that comforting thought Hermione, silently, plucked out her wand, squared her shoulders and crept through the space onto the landing outside.

The sky was dark as pitch; so dark that Hermione barely saw the figure standing there until it shifted slightly, sending a flash of white into her view as their skin reflected the moon.

Her wand was in the air before she even made the conscious decision of lifting it, her lips moving silently as she cast a barrier around the landing and then the door behind her. Whoever it was, they weren't getting off the Tower anytime soon.

Hermione stepped forward slowly, too scared of making any noise to put down her telescope. Her heart was beating erratically in her chest and holding her breath was all she could do to stop herself panting.

There was a clap of thunder in the distance as a cloud stepped in front of the orb that had provided light and despite her caution until now, Hermione jumped, took an involuntary step back and heard her foot crunch on a twig there.

The moon came back into view then and she blinked furiously at the sudden light but when she opened them again the figure was facing her, arm extended, wand directed straight at her face.

_Oh shit,_ she thought as another clap of thunder echoed in the distance.

* * *

><p><em>Yayyyyy! all done! <em>

_so who does it look like it's going to be? who do you _want_ it to be? review, review, REVIEW! Tell me all thoughts you haaaaaave! _

_ok i'm starting to look weird so i'll just leave it at a "you get the idea"_

_well, you get the idea._

_ok thanx for reading! review if you can you kno i luv reviews!_

_ another thanx to Artemis Sagittarius Malfoy for the review and another thanx to 9BlackXink9 and yet a-n-o-t-h-e-r thanx to krista04_

luv u all!

R.


	9. Ch9: Lumos, Jupiter and Knuts

**Same as before :D**

Hey guys! sorry i would have preferred to post this up yesterday but woops! anyway here it is... a little toastier than the previous but still warming up! hehehhehehehhehehehehehehe. sorry if it's a little fast when you read it. i'm not that good at the summary of the day sorta thing but **_PLEASE REVIEW TO HELP ME GET BETTER! _**

Anyway... Good news! i got a head start on the next chapter so that should come sooner than usual! yay! ok i'll let you read now!

as for the questions that you guys asked well you'll just have to find out won't you! good guessed though!

anyway i'm gunna let you read now.

enjoy :D

p.s i'm thinking of changing my pen name... just a heads up to warn you. Oh and would anybody mind telling me what a Beta Reader does? i get the vague idea but... help!

* * *

><p>"Granger?" the figure hissed and Hermione was startled to hear the voice as male, for reasons that escaped her.<p>

"Who the he–"

"_Lumos!" _he growled, sudden light bursting from his wand, illuminating the small space between them and exposing the face she hadn't been able to see before. Her eyes widened in surprise.

"_Zabini?"_ she gasped incredulously.

His eyes hardened. "Who else!" he hissed.

"Oh I don't know, Helga Hufflepuff?" she snarled, sarcastically. "_There are, like, four hundred people here how was I supposed to know it was you!_"

He shot her a glare and continued as if she hadn't said anything. "What the hell are _you _doing here anyway, Mudblood?" he snarled.

"Don't call me that!" she snapped. "And _I _unlike _some people_ have _permission _to be up here!"

"Oh yeah? By who?" Zabini challenged.

"_Professor Sinistra!_" she spat. "You know the _Astronomy teacher? _The one in charge of the _Astronomy Tower?_"

"Stop being sharp," he snapped.

"Stop being a prat," she countered.

There were a few minutes of solid murder passing between them before Zabini gave up and lowered his eyes, growling in frustration. "I'm sorry," he grumbled and Hermione thought the words were quite strangled. "You just gave me a fright that's all,"

"Oh yeah because _I_ wasn't frightened at all," she snapped, turning around and undoing the spells she had put up. "Come up onto the Astronomy tower with the only set of keys in _Hogwarts_–"

"Keys!" he muttered. "So mundane,"

"–to find a _mysterious figure_ standing out in the moonlight!" she muttered hysterically as her heart slowed down. "A clap of thunder, flash of light and next thing I know there's a wand to my face! Now why would that be frightening?"

"Oh stop acting like the victim," Zabini waved a hand dismissingly, his voice less pointy now that he had calmed down. "_You're _the one who sneaked up on _me,"_

"You not supposed to be up here!" she shot. Hermione had started setting up her telescope now, desperate to be rid of the weight it had been putting on her shoulder, but the task was proving difficult because one of the hinges was jammed. "And you were facing everywhere apart from the _door!_ Anybody would be sneaking up on you if they came through it! Which, may I point out, is the only way to _act-tually get up here,_" Hermione grunted as she shoved her palm against the offending hinge. It still wouldn't budge.

"Maybe you could have _stopped_ and _said something_," Zabini murmured, his hands suddenly appearing beside hers, jerking the metal hard into place. "Instead of trying to play brave, tip toeing up behind me and nearly getting your head blown off." He straightened up at the same time she did and only then did they realise how close they were to each other. There was a second of surprised silence from both of them before Zabini smirked, the first sign of amusement since she got up, and leant forward, his dark lips brushing her earlobe as he whispered. "Oh and you're welcome, for the stand I mean."

Hermione blinked as he pulled back and turned his back on her. What was he playing at? But then she caught site of his face and rearranged her features, putting her walls back up. She knew that face; Malfoy used it all the time, just in a more mean, spiteful way. He was winding her up. She scowled at him before turning around and setting up the portable chair she always used for stargazing. "What are you doing up here anyway?"

Zabini chuckled behind her. "You know somebody less intrusive would have said 'thank you' at that,"

"Oh, well that's good to know," Hermione hissed. "Why don't you run along and find _them_, then?"

The boy chuckled again. "_Feisty!_"

"Yeah I seem to be getting that a lot lately." She muttered, hiding the anger that flashed through her at the thought of Malfoy.

There was an awkward pause. "So it seems like Hermione Granger has grown a backbo–"

"Listen," she cut him off, spinning around to face him as her patience snapped. "I haven't been well lately and because of that I am extraordinarily late on my homework so I would appreciate it if you either left me to it or at least _try_ not to be an ignorant, selfish, incorrigible prat of a Slytherin and for one night, just _one_ night not hiss at my blood status or my unwillingness to get in trouble by starting a fight!" Hermione concluded breathlessly, having said the whole sentence on one breath. She turned away from him, sat down and started adjusting the focus on her lens. "I just want to do my homework without being tormented." She said quietly.

There was silence for a while before Zabini spoke again. "Well if that's the way you want it I will contain the _urge_ to annoy you, that you_ so_ clearly _know_ I have, and settle with saying that you have a mighty set of lungs on you and that I hope, for your future husband's sake, that you enjoy playing the bagpipes because I sure as hell wouldn't want _that _unloaded on me, if I were him," Zabini said sharply, deliberately drawing out the sentence to imitate her. "And _I _would appreciate it if _you_ didn't jump at my neck during my attempt to be nice with you,"

Hermione whipped her head round and glared at him, long and hard. "_Nice?_" she hissed, incredulously. "You call that _nice?_ You were at my throat the minute you saw my _face!_"

"Well _excuse me_ for being a little sharp at _midnight _on a stressful day after somebody tried to attack me from behind!" he spat, folding his arms in front of his chest. "You're not the only one with problems Granger! I have just as much _stress_ on me as you do,"

"Oh what?" she turned to him with a mocking expression of concern. "Is the _itty bitty_ Slytherin finding it _stressful _to ditch class and copy off his class mates? Is he finding the naps he takes in class uncomfortable? Is everything he wants not getting to him at _exactly_ the time he wants it? You poor little rich kid I feel _so-sorry-for-you_" she snapped at him viciously.

"Don't mock me Granger,"

"Don't talk shit Zabini,"

"Don't talk to me like that you insignificant little Mud–"

"Shut up Zabini otherwise I'm going to miss the movement of Jupiter," she cut him off, not wanting to hear the word.

Zabini chuckled softly, just a hint of bitterness in the sound, and Hermione fumed at his nerve. "Jupiter? Yeah ok, except we're not doing Jupiter this term, you might want to _think_ before you retort,"

She whipped her head round to glare at him. It was true they weren't doing Jupiter this term, they had been studying Saturn for a good few weeks now but not being able to muster a good response Hermione just stuck out her tongue and turned back to her papers, that, with a flick of her wand, now rested magically on a small, comfortably tall, study stool by her feet.

Out of the corner of her eye she saw him stare at her for a bit before turning to look back at the now exposed moon.

For the next hour and a half there was only silence between them before Hermione got up and started packing away.

Blaise looked at her putting away her stuff, eyebrow raised, impressed at how fast she had been. "Done already? I guess I underestimated your urge to suck up to teachers,"

"Shut your mouth Zabini," Hermione spat. "I missed the movement I was meant to be recording for the first part of my homework thanks to _you!_" she muttered, running a hand through her messy hair. "Bloody bickering with me when I had to do my _work! _And Astronomy's on _Monday!_" Hermione whined, pausing with her hand in her hair as the graveness of the situation sank in.

She closed her eyes and exhaled. _Not to worry, _she chided, mentally scowling at her panic._ You'll just have to come back tomorrow night. _Hermione groaned. She'd have to talk to Sinistra again.

"Come to think of it," Zabini continued as if he hadn't heard her. "Snape's the only one you _haven't_ succeeded to suck up to," he pouted in mock thought. "That must be a blow to your Gryffindorian ego,"

"I don't have an ego!," she said, half incredulous at his _persistence._ "And I do _not_ suck up to teachers!"

"Oh you _so _do," Zabini laughed. "Don't even _bother _to deny that!"

She glared for a full minute before giving up and growling at him. "Urgh you are incorrigible!" she huffed, hoisting up her telescope and heading for the door.

Hopefully the next night he wouldn't be there.

* * *

><p>The next morning Hermione jumped up extra early and sprinted to the office by the Astronomy tower. Luckily her teacher was there and after a few minutes of intense persuading, Professor Sinistra being the master in stubbornness, she was rewarded with another note for the usage of the Tower that night.<p>

The rest of the day passed at a snails pace, most of it spent on heavy research for T.S.P, and though Hermione knew she should be trying to figure out who he was, she persisted in being stubbornly oblivious to what the letters, or probably the initials, meant.

Finally it was time to go back to the Tower, almost relieved not to have to search fruitlessly anymore, and was not pleased to see Zabini standing there like the night before.

"Granger," he'd murmured, acknowledging her presence without turning around.

"Zabini," she'd cleared her throat before proceeding with her homework.

The rest of that night had been spent in silence and thanks to that Hermione managed to finish earlier than she would have expected, leaving swiftly before he could speak to her again.

Though she had managed to get to bed reasonably early, the next morning felt like there were boulders weighing down her eyelids and it took great effort to put on her uniform.

Breakfast passed slowly, seeming to mimic Hermione's slow progress due to exhaustion, and they made their way with ease to Ancient Runes.

"I still can't believe that Professor Snape gets to teach Defence Against the Dark Arts!" Hermione shook her head, her mind filled with sharp images of her pale teacher.

"What was Dumbledore was _thinking?_" Harry muttered.

"I'd bet my whole months _allowance _that he's wriggling out a plan to pull the Cruciatus Curses on us as part of his _lesson plan,_" Ron grumbled next to him.

Hermione was about to tell Ron to stop being daft when a familiar drawl of a voice came from behind them.

"What Weasel? You'd be willing to bet a whole _two Knuts'?_" Hermione spun round to see Malfoy with his arms folded over his chest. The apes that were Crabbe and Goyle, laughed heartily beside him; quickly joined by Pansy Parkinson and another unknown Slytherin girl.

"Shut up, Malfoy!" Ron muttered, his cheeks flaming to life.

"That _is_ how much you get, right?" he continued as if Ron hadn't spoken. "I had to take a swing at a guess but knowing your filthy scum of a family you probably don't even get _that,_"

Ron's colour brightened, in anger though.

"Shut your mouth you overpriced ferret!" Harry hissed stepping forward.

Hermione immediately felt the tremor in her hand, but luckily for her Professor Babbling had rounded the corner at the end of the corridor and was heading their way. "Harry shut up!" she hissed, jerking her head in the direction of the oncoming teacher.

Harry's eyes flashed to her with a mixture of hurt and betrayal but then he caught her gesture and fell silent.

"Hermione what the hell! Whose side are you–umph" Ron started but cut off when Harry elbowed him, hard, in the ribs.

Malfoy however, not having noticed the movement of Hermione's head, was smirking at her, eyes shining as his hand stopped shaking.

"What's the matter Potter?" Pansy sneered. "Need scum to protect you?"

"You should watch your mouth when you talk to me Potter, never know when–" Malfoy started.

"You can ago in, class," Professor Babbling called from the corridor. "Well," she stopped behind Malfoy, eyeing his green robes. "What are you doing here? I don't take the Slytherins' until Wednesday. Now scurry along to your next class and three points from Slytherin for faffing around." Professor Babbling eyed them again. When they didn't move she fixed them with a pleasant smile that did not touch her eyes. "Be seeing you,"

Malfoy sent a burning glance at Harry and mouthed, "this isn't over" before turning around and striding away.

Professor Babbling stopped smiling and followed to students into the classroom.

Ancient Runes, like the rest of the morning, passed at a snails pace, each word of Hermione's notes dragging out more time than ever before. By the time the bell rang Hermione was so fed up that she was almost glad to be in the corridors heading for Defence Against the Dark Arts.

Almost.

The mass of Gryffindors' reached the classroom at a surprisingly late time, the Slytherins' already standing there, and because of that Malfoy had no chance to torment them before Professor Snape ushered them inside.

Hermione was about to go through the door when a pair of long, hard fingers grabbed her arm just above the elbow. Before she could turn to see who it was her arm was jerked backwards and her back hit against a chest, warm lips suddenly grazing the skin just under her right earlobe. She shuddered violently at the touch.

"You got lucky earlier," hot breath ran down her throat, hungrily making her shudder again, and raising goose bumps on her skin. "Wonder if you'll have the same luck next time?" the low, taunting voice of Draco Malfoy had just reached her ear when his fingers abruptly vanished from her arm leaving it oddly cold.

Hermione's head whipped round to throw insults at him like a rain that never ended but Malfoy had already gone, vanishing just as fast as he'd appeared.

* * *

><p><em>there it is! again sorry if it's a bit fast but it'll warm up soon don't worry!<em>

_ok so i'll be off now._

_seeeeeeee youuuuuuuu_

R.


	10. Ch10: Patronus, Partners and Cockroaches

**Same a- oh you know what i mean.**

yayayayayayayayay! i got it in early! told you i had a head start!

thanks to: 95.-Midnight, Artemis Sagittarius Malfoy and krista04 (not that i don't thank everybody else these are just the people that last reviewed).

anyway i need some advice! i'm not sure when to finish off the bet! ahhhh! i don't want it lasting too long because the consequences have to come into play! ok i'll let you read now.

oh and once again sorry if Snape is out of character! i'm really bad at him!

Enjoy:

* * *

><p>Snape was at the front of the room when Hermione got in and, anxious not to lose any points to Gryffindor, she scurried quickly to sit next to Harry at the front of the class.<p>

There were a few minutes of silence before the Professor spoke.

"It has come to my attention," Snape drawled, stepping around the ink black desk at the front of the room, his penetrating black eyes scorching into everybody that didn't have green on their uniform. "That you are missing a small chunk on a particular spell that was meant to be covered last year,"

Hermione leaned forward in her seat, pending on each one of Professor Snape's words.

"This is due to the, well known…" he paused "_pleasant…_ visit of Miss Umbridge who despite her intelligence in such matters did not follow the lesson plan to the…" another pause "_original _schedule."

Hermione leaned forward more, the hind legs of her chair hovering inches off the floor.

"Therefore Dumbledore has asked me to go over that section, briefly," Snape eyed the room like a hawk might eye a lone mouth. "In my next class." There was a long pause before the Professor spoke again. "Consequently, for this lesson, and _only_ this lesson apart from the _one _set day on which we shall be learning _how to perform it_, we will be doing work on the Patronus Charm,"

The tension in the air thickened to an unbearable state, everybody remaining silent as the awe in the room exploded.

"There will be one essay set on this subject and, though I thoroughly disagree, for today, and once again, today _only,_ you will have a partner in this class."

There was a small bubble of chatter as the girls turned to each other and the boys nodded in a 'manly' way to other people around the room. Hermione knew that she would have to go with Harry if she had any hope of passing this lesson, due to her not-un-noticed difficulty with the spell, knowing as well that Ron would want to go with him so if she was going to go with him she was going to have to ask quickly but despite that she did not turn to her friend. Instead, she stared fixedly at the teacher at the front of the room. Snape surely would not let them choose their partners, for, like a Dementor, he seemed to relish in the unhappiness of his students.

Sure enough, as the chatter quickly rose to a loud babble and all of the students slowly lost their 'cool' with the hard-to-suppress excitement of the moment, the loud, deliberate sound of the Professor clearing his throat caused them all to fall silent again.

"Naturally," he hissed. "_I_ will be choosing your pairs,"

A low grumble circled the room before, with another sharp cough from the man in black at the front, it fell silent again.

"But before I do," with a quick flick of his long, pale finders the room went dark and a detailed diagram of a wand casting a Patronus lit up the blackboard at the front. Another flick and a white screen came down in front of it, revealing black writing that could not be seen on the blackboard. "Who can tell me why we cast a Patronus?"

"To keep Potter from fainting!" Malfoy yelled from the back, quickly followed by Crabbe and Goyle snickering with the rest of the Slytherins' right behind them.

All three members of the Golden Trio turned around simultaneously to send a deadly glare his way. Hermione being the slowest to turn back to the screen caught a smirk and a _wink_ from Malfoy. She felt a faint flush creep to her cheeks before she whipped her head back around.

"Thank you Mr Malfoy," Snape's thin lips curled slightly at the ends. "But that is not the answer I needed although a Patronus _can _be used to stop Mr Potter from fainting," he sneered at Harry as he said the last part. "Miss Granger!" he snapped. "Can _you,_ by any chance?" he hissed. "Tell me why we summon a Patronus?"

Hermione waited only half a beat before answering. "We cast it to protect us from a dark entity called a Dementor, though research has revealed that you can also repel a Lethifold with a Patronus. It simply forces the Dementor or Lethifold to feed off the Patronus instead of you and because they are conjured to a happy memory the Dementor, being unable to take it from the victim because of the Patronus, is immediately repelled. It is not clear why a Lethifold is repelled, for it feeds on flesh, because there is only one account of somebody surviving to tell the tale – that somebody being Flavius Belby who just happened to be awake when the Lethifold seized him." She said smoothly, remembering the hours of research on Lethifolds'.

"Correct," he sneered. "Now can you tell me what a Patronus is?"

Immediately. "The Patronus Charm, is – well – a-a charm tha-that evokes a partially-tangible positive energy force known as a 'Patronus'" she said quickly, the words running out in a rush as she quoted from memory. "To successfully cast the Patronus Charm one must muster a happy memory, the happier the memory the more powerful and tangible the Patronus will be, and incant _'Expecto Patronum'_. It is a very complex charm and many qualified wizards and witches have trouble with it," Hermione wracked her brain to be sure she'd said everything. She had.

"Well done Miss Granger. Perfect. Too bad it was read straight from the book," Snape sneered.

"But Professor–!" she protested. "How could I possibly if my book is clo–?"

"Unless you enjoy loosing points for your house I suggest you speak when you are asked to from now on," Snape drawled, turning back to the board. "Miss Granger is indeed correct." Snape said sharply, vanishing the screen and image, turning on the lights and writing words on the board. "A Patronus is very difficult to conjure that is why this assignment will be mostly written on paper. Now can anybody tell me what shape a Patronus makes when summoned? Yes Miss Patil?"

"A Patronus takes different forms for different people, usually judging by their character,"

"Correct," Snape muttered, slightly angry that she'd got it right.

"So Malfoy's would be a ferret," Ron muttered, flushing slightly as the Gryffindors' laughed.

Hermione kicked him under the desk.

"Thank you Mr Weasley," Snape snapped, silencing the laughter. "Five points from Gryffindor,"

There was a low groan.

"Silence," the Professor spat, and immediately everybody obliged. "Now I will put you into pairs,"

Snape went to the front of the room, picked up a long piece of parchment and started reading off names, scarcely leaving a gap between one pair and another. Hermione had to strain her ears to hear him over the noise of people groaning and lifting themselves heavily out of their seats.

Finally Snape stopped and waited for the class to settle down.

Hermione looked around to see Parkinson sitting alone and Malfoy sitting in his normal place beside Zabini. Hermione saw that Parvati behind them was whining softly and staring with disgust at a droopy-eyed Goyle.

Ron, Harry and herself hadn't been moved from each other either.

About ten seconds passed before, with a slim smile, Professor Snape read out the last six names.

"Weasley with Zabini, Potter with Malfoy and Granger with Parkinson," he read slowly, extending the syllables and glaring at Harry like a panther on its prey.

Simultaneously, the trio had their reactions. Ron bared his teeth and let out a barely audible snarl before sending Zabini a dirty look, Harry's jaw tightened visibly and his fists clenched painfully around his quill but he did not look at Malfoy. Hermione, instead, let out a frustrated breath and closed her eyes before snapping them open and sending a murderous glare at her _partner _that clearly said 'you'd better move your ass sister because I'm not getting off this seat'.

Pansy sent her an equally dirty look but complied, snatching her books viciously and slamming them down between Ron and Hermione.

Ron, let out a hiss and got up, storming across the room and standing behind Malfoy, waiting for him to get up.

Malfoy glared but with a secret glance over to the bushy haired girl sitting next to Pansy he complied, strolling over to the desk and shoving his partner clean off his seat before grabbing the chair, circling around the bench and sitting himself opposite his housemate, winking at her before sending a sneer at his rival.

With a quick glace at Snape over his shoulder, he had permission.

"I have also noticed," the Professor in black, murmured, instantly recapturing the attention of the class. "That our seating arrangements needed to be changed so," he paused, "to put two useful things in one," a thin smile on his lips, "you will be keeping these seats for the rest of this term,"

The class let out a massive groan.

"You've got to be kidding?" Ron exploded at the back.

"No I am not _kidding_ you, Mr Weasley," Snape sneered. "Another five points from Gryffindor should wake you up," he let the 'p' pop as he said it.

Ron lowered his head and muttered angrily.

"Now I want you to," Snape started but Hermione was immediately distracted when a flash of white under the table caught her eye. Malfoy pushed his hand up Pansy's skirt. She nearly gagged. "Discuss with your partner the details of the Patronus Charm. Further information on page four hundred and seventy seven,"

Hermione sighed and picked up her Defence Against the Dark Arts book, flipping instantly to page four hundred and seventy seven. She didn't need it, but Pansy probably would.

"Right so, it says here that–" she looked up to see Parkinson was blushed a bright crimson. Sighing, Hermione continued, trying to stifle her annoyance. "That a Patronus charm is–"

Pansy let out a small yelp and blushed further.

"_Will you stop that!_" Hermione hissed at the platinum blond in front of her.

"Why what's the matter, Granger?" he sneered. "Jealous?"

"I am trying to get good marks here!" she whined.

Malfoy grinned wickedly. "Who's stoppin' ya?"

"You are!" she yelled a little too loud. "You and your pathetic little–"

"Relax Mudblood!" Pansy spat. "We're just having some fu–" Parkinson cut off with a louder yelp. "Ouch! What was that for!" she snarled, glaring daggers at Malfoy.

"_Miss _Parkinson," Professor Snape was suddenly behind her. Hermione saw Malfoy's hand retreat with another quick flash. "Maybe you would be better off at the back of the classroom." He sneered. "_Now_,"

Pansy muttered something under her breath before jumping up and dragging Hermione with her.

As they sat down something else caught the brunette's eye. A small paper white cockroach crept up Pansy's leg and onto the table, stopping right in front of her. Surprisingly, Pansy giggled, picked it up and _opened_ it. The cockroach broke in two and quickly unravelled into a note. Pansy giggled again, picked up her quill and wrote on in, scrunching it back up and blowing on it. The paper flew into the air and turned into a bird, landing promptly in front of Malfoy.

Hermione rolled her eyes.

Half an hour passed slowly, each minute filled to the brim with arguments between the two girls, and small cockroaches coming up to them only interrupted when a loud crash sounded through the room.

"You incompetents!" Snape boomed. "Idiots!"

Malfoy and Harry had just lunged at each other, managing to send two ink bottles flying outwards and landing in a pool at Snape's feel.

Hermione had never seen Snape angry enough to tell Malfoy off as well… and was enjoying the show. Until–

"Malfoy! Swap partners with Parkinson! Potter! Detention, tonight, eight o'clock in my office!"

Hermione's face grew hot with anger as she watched Pansy stand up and walk grumpily over to Harry.

"You have got to be kidding me!" Hermione snarled through gritted teeth.

"Sadly I'm not," Malfoy sneered as he sat down in the seat beside her. His white hair was flecked with angry blots of black ink as was his robe and face.

"You did it on purpose!" she hissed, anger bubbling right to the surface.

"Don't flatter yourself Granger," he hissed, a small smile starting to play at his lips. He was making fun of her.

"I hate you!" she spat.

Malfoy's grey eyes hardened. "Well maybe I hate you too,"

"'Maybe!'" she scoffed. "You've hated be since the start you foul little fe–git!" she glared.

"Fegit? Malfoy inquired, raising an eyebrow.

"Muwitch?" Hermione countered, picking up on his slip up on Friday.

His eyes softened slightly. "Touché,"

The rest of the lesson was spent sending snide remarks to each other and when the bell rang, gripping the table was all she could do to not sprint out of the room, headlong.

"Your homework will be to write a foot long essay between you, which you will hand in as soon as it is finished. The deadline though is next lesson," Snape said bitterly. "The set date is the end of this term, I want you and your partners to get together and attempt at performing the Patronus Charm before then,"

Hermione let out a groan with the rest of the class. She'd have to set dates with Malfoy!

"Consequences for not practicing," he paused, "and believe me I'll know," a small smile, "will be detention for two months," he finished with a sneer. "Class dismissed."

The class filled out the room eagerly, but as Hermione reached the corridor outside the classroom, again, she felt fingers on her arm. "We need to talk," Malfoy murmured and with that everything went black, the only thing telling her she was still conscious being the warm arms wrapped securely around her.

* * *

><p><em>Yeh it was a little obvious that Malfoy was to be her partner but i don't really mind do you? lol. anyway here it is! <em>

_sorry for the cliffys i don't know why but i seem to be drawn to them... right i'll try my best to stop..._

_right i gtg now. loads to write little time to write it in..._

_ok you guys have a good day_

_byeeeee_

R.


	11. Ch11: Shudders, Teases and Not Knowing

**Same as before**

hey guys, sorry it's late! i went to Thorpe Park yesterday and was out from 7am to 10pm so i didn't get much writing in.

anyhoo here it is!

I have decided that i **am** going to change my pen name (and my profile because they're both very boring at the mo.) so just a heads up so you guys know my knew pen name is **Black waters, white stones **and i'll be changing it as soon as i've posted this up. Ok so that's pretty much it! a little more heated in this one (just slightly but better than nothing) and nicely baked in the next one.

K so i'll leave you to it

Enjoy

* * *

><p>Hermione felt a shudder run down her spine.<p>

"Gerroff me!" she yelped, the hand over her mouth making it increasingly difficult to speak.

"Hold still Granger," Malfoy grunted, heaving her with him.

"Where the hell are you taking me?" she protested, his hand jogged slightly as she fought, covering her eyes.

"If you stop moving and trust me you'll _find out_," he hissed, fighting her viciously.

"Trust _you?_" she snorted. "Yeah why don't I do that all the time so you can make a fool of me every hour or so! 'Don't worry Granger I'm just cleaning your dress not making it turn to ash as soon as you move!'"

Malfoy stopped and chucked and in the few seconds they were still Hermione could feel his, surprisingly, erratic heartbeat against her back. "That's a really bad impression of me,"

Hermione tilted her head and stuck out her tongue at him.

"I bet you'd like it if I turned your dress to ash though," he said thoughtfully. "You wouldn't be naked for too long I'm sure Weasel could buy you something to wear, though with his father's salary I would expect an old rag if I were you,"

"Don't talk about my friend like that!" his hand muffled her shriek.

"I wasn't talking about your _friend!_ I was talking about your friend's _father's salary_," he shrugged. "There's a difference."

Hermione started to shout again but stopped when she didn't hear her own voice. She looked up to see Malfoy holding his wand with the hand that had been covering her mouth, a smirk on his face.

The blond waited until she stopped fidgeting before flicking his wand and un-silencing her.

Hermione sent a glare over his fingers at him. "Up yours, Malfoy!" she spat.

He grinned. "That can be arranged," he wiggled a white eyebrow.

"'Oh ha, ha, Malfoy, you're _so_ funny'" she mocked.

He chuckled. "Never thought I'd see the day when Granger flirted with me," he muttered. "Hell, never thought I'd see the day when Granger _flirted_,"

"I was _not_ flirting!" she yelled. Her mouth was almost free, her eyes carrying most of the burden now. "How was _that _flirting?"

"It's ok, you don't have to be ashamed," he chuckled. "I _am_ devilishly handsome,"

"You are so full of it!" Hermione grunted. She had started fighting again, kicking out and lashing at everything she could her fingers round.

"Oh come on, Granger!" he chortled. "Just admit it!"

"Admit _what_ exactly?" she hissed, clawing at his exposed forearm with no real reaction on his part.

"That you're attracted to me," he said smoothly only a faint hint of laughter in his voice.

"HA!" Hermione burst, although a secret shudder had run down her spine at his words. "_As if!_"

"You sure?" he murmured, his lips suddenly a hair's breath away from her neck.

Hermione froze mid breath, feeling the warm air roam over the sensitive skin where her shoulder met her neck. She tried to suppress her shudder but failed miserably. _What the hell are you doing!_ She shrieked at herself, _this is Malfoy we're talking about! Get a hold of yourself! _ "Yes," she hissed sharply at him. "I am sure,"

Hermione felt him smile against her neck. "You're a bad liar,"

"Yeah and you're a sweet hearted boy," she spat. The amount of sarcasm he brought out in her was astounding…

"Also true," he murmured.

"Oh shut your mouth!" she wrestled against his grip, which had moved from her waist to cross over her chest, his hot palms cupping her shoulders.

He chuckled and pulled away from her neck and Hermione heard him mutter something under his breath followed by a quick shuffling sound. They must have arrived where he wanted her to be because, with a sharp intake of breath, he flung her backwards where she hit painfully into a small table.

Hermione looked around and saw that she was once again standing in Malfoy's Prefect room.

"Why the hell did you bring me here?" she snarled, rubbing just under her butt where she'd made contact with the table. Man it hurt! It was probably starting to bruise alrea–

She stopped when she caught Malfoy staring amusedly at the hand rubbing her rear. He cocked an eyebrow.

"I'll ask you again," she growled, angry at the flush that had started to creep up her neck. "Why am I here?"

"Well first, I want to arrange our meeting times for our _project_," he walked back a step and leant casually against his bedside table.

"What _here?_" she eyed the room angrily, sneering at the excess of green.

"And _second_," he cut in. "The terms of your consequences weren't as detailed as it was necessary for them to be so I'd like to go over those."

"Again, _why here_," she tapped her foot impatiently.

"Why didn't you study the bet you committed yourself to?" Malfoy said in mock horror, placing a hand over his chest. "Disgraceful!"

"Well excuse me if my memory's a little fuzzy after you snatched me and all but _dragged_ be to your room!" she hissed.

"Ooh touchy!"

"Malfoy will you just–"

"I brought you here because any changes to the bet have to be agreed to in the place where we set it," he said in a matter-of-fact tone. "Which is a major inconvenience since this is Blaise's room but we can see past tha–"

"_What?_" she asked incredulously. "This is _Zabini's _room and you've been keeping me here?"

"Er – That's off the point!" he snapped.

"It's not off the point! It is anything _but_–" she stopped and sucked in a deep breath. "Ok just tell me what you want,"

He smirked. "Finally learnt how to shut your trap Granger?"

"Malfoy," Hermione warned.

"Ok, ok," he laughed, lifting his hands above his head in a motion of surrender. "I need to know how long your consequence lasts,"

"That's it?" she growled, annoyed.

"That's the rules of the bet," he shrugged. "We have to go through it even though you will never win,"

Hermione snorted. "You are so full of it!"

Malfoy raised an eyebrow. "I _will_ win this bet,"

"In your dreams, Slytherin,"

He smirked. "There too,"

"You will never win,"

"That's what _you_ think,"

"That's what I _know_,"

"Can you just tell me how long your God damn consequence is going to last?"

"Same as yours. A month." She smiled smugly. "I still _know_ your going to lose,"

"What makes you so sure," he challenged walking towards her so that they were face to face, possibly in an attempt to intimidate her.

Hermione shrugged. "Gut instinct,"

"Well your gut's retarded then," he snapped. "Anyway that's not all I wanted you here for so let's move on,"

"Fine," Hermione smiled, enjoying his reaction. "What do you want?"

"I want to change the format of the bet," Malfoy stepped back and sat himself on the green sheets.

"_What?_" she blinked. "You can't do that–!"

"Well _alter _would be the more appropriate word,"

"–You can't just back out!"

"I'm not backing out," he said smoothly, silencing her with a glare. "I'm just making it a tad more difficult. I don't want this bet to go on forever, Granger," he grinned. "I want my slave,"

"Yeah, yeah 'cus there is no way in hell you're going to win, Granger'" Hermione finished, doing another 'bad impression' of Malfoy's low drawl. "What is it you want to change?"

"Well from now on you have to call me 'Draco' and I you 'Hermione'" he pushed back onto the bed and put his palms under his blond head.

Hermione paused a moment as she heard her name roll off Malfoy's tongue. It sounded foreign and exclusive and… she… _liked_ it? "And I have to defend you on _that_ too?"

"No we just have to use it,"

She eyed him. "That's insane! No, I'm not doing that, Harry and Ron will be on me like birds to a feather if I do that,"

"Ok fine then you have to let me add something to my consequence," he smirked.

"What? No!"

"You refused so I get to add something!" he shrugged.

"Oh all right let's here it," Hermione snapped, shooting glares at his smug smile. She didn't have the energy to argue now.

"As well as being my slave for a month you will owe me," he sat up to look at her. "One, and only one, favour to which you must comply to. Whenever I ask it."

"Right," she put her hands on her hips. "And when does this… go off?"

"Never," he shrugged. "You will owe me one favour until I ask you it. Until I say 'this is the bet favour I am asking you'"

For the next few minutes Hermione just stared. Before, "are you out of your fucking mind?"

Malfoy blinked, surprised at her use of the ''F' word'.

"Why _on earth_," Hermione started. "Would I want to tie myself to a favour to which I _'must comply'_," she walked towards him until she was towering over his sitting form. "When _said favour_ is to be owed to _you_,"

"You know your distrust in me is quite demeaning," he met her gaze. There was a second where he just stared before his eyes widened and he stood up, pushing hard on her shoulders. "Get away from me you Mu–" he stopped and glared at her.

"What is your _problem?_" she hissed, barely regaining her balance.

* * *

><p>Draco glared at her.<p>

He couldn't believe he'd let her get that close! What was wrong with him! Dumb brat! Stupid know-it-all!

He watched her wordlessly as his mind shouted insults.

Seeing Granger unconscious had fucked with his head. Bad. And now she was all he could think about. His damn hormones were thinking for him and it was driving him crazy!

_Never_ had he suffered self-loathing like he did now. He didn't like Granger. He _couldn't_ like Granger. It went against everything he stood for. And his father, oh his father would kill him.

No, no he would _not _let Granger screw up his life!

But he couldn't stop thinking about her. How fragile she had felt in his arms when she'd been ill. He had lied when he'd said she was heavy. She was light. Weightless. Like a feather caught in the wind.

Did she feel like that to everybody? If she did no wonder Krum had wanted her.

Draco felt his face go hot with rage. _Krum._

Just at the thought he felt like ripping the Bulgarian to little unidentifiable shreds. He had given her a piece of paper before he left. The bastard.

Draco stiffened all over. Was he…? Did he just…? Was it possible that he was…? _Jealous?_

He shuddered sharply.

No.

He was not jealous. This was just a bad day. He had been partnered with Potter and it had stressing him out. He was just worried that Pansy would take his 'hints' seriously. He was _not_ jealous.

Draco Malfoy was jealous of _nothing_ and _no one._

But just as his brain reluctantly latched onto this fact an image of Krum with her at the Yule Ball popped into his head and set his emotions on fire. There was no doubt. He _hated_ Viktor Krum.

"Nothing. I don't have a problem what makes you think I have a problem?" he hissed, not fully knowing why he was being sarcastic.

"You're acting like a jerk for no reason!" she yelled.

"And why does that bother you?" he asked bitterly. "I've always been a 'jerk for no reason' haven't I? Because I don't have more than one side to me," Draco walked towards her until he was face to face, chest to chest and, nearly, nose to nose with her, pushing as much he could on that line between Proud and Intimidated. "I am a single sided, unreliable, incorrigible little rich kid. And that can't possibly mean that I am different closer up because first impressions are everything, right, _Granger?_"

* * *

><p>Hermione stared at the boy in front of her. Malfoy's mood changes where incredible. One second he was light and annoying, the next he was pissed at nothing in particular and the one after that he was all bitter and insightful.<p>

He was close now, the tip of his nose nearly touching hers. She could feel his breath on her mouth and his scent burning up her nostrils but all she could see was the mercury that were Draco Malfoy's eyes, the only thing obscuring them slightly was a stray lock of her hair that hung over her cheek.

Without warning Malfoy's hand whipped up and swiped it behind her ear with a surprisingly gentle touch for his long fingers.

All Hermione could do was stare as the boy's fingers lingered on the tips of her hair.

She looked deeply into his eyes and saw something flicker behind those grey specks but it was gone too fast to for her to identify. "Malfoy…" she breathed before she could stop herself. But she couldn't think of fixing it, her eyes trained intently only on the silver orbs in front of her.

And just as suddenly as the movement to wipe away her hair his fingers tightened on the strands and in one fluid movement he had yanked them all out. Hard.

Hermione yelped and jumped back. "What the hell is _wrong_ with you!" she shrieked.

"Ha! I fooled you _again!_" Malfoy howled in laughter. "Boy I _am_ cunning if I can trick the know-it-all-princess of Gryffindor! Now I have an exclusive sample of the first bird's nest made out of hair!" he held up the strands between his long fingertips.

"You're such a jerk, you know that!" she shouted, her eyes stinging from the pain on her head. "I hate you! You're a foul person and I hope you die alone!" and with that she ran out of the room, tears spilling from her eyes.

What was wrong with her? It was a question that she did not know the answer to. And for the first time in a long time, she was quite happy not knowing.

* * *

><p><em>and voila (that's how you spell it right)! you have to love it when Hermione gets her hair yanked out. reviews pleaaaaaaseeeee<em>

_alright lemme go write summore_

_byeeeeee_

_signing off for the last time as fan_

_long live Black waters!_

R.


	12. Ch12: Tears, Patrols and Serpents

**Last time i checked i wasn't J.K**

Oh My God this took SO long to write! i apologise to Dobby555 and MandyHowlOwl150 especially because it was the first time they reviewed (i think) and i took so long! I'm so sorry! well here it is anyway and i spiced it up a notch again JUST to make it up to you! ... and because it was convenient.

Sorry again for the wait! shouldn't be too long from now on!

P.S i just had my martial arts grading tonight! my teacher reckons i passed but please cross your fingers for me and i'll let you kno if you've crossed enough the minute i find out! good luck to me!

oh and thanx to my mum for letting me wake her up late to ask for suggestions! luv ya mum!

ok i'll let you read now!

enjoy

* * *

><p>The corridor of the seventh floor was isolated when Hermione reached it.<p>

_I need somewhere where I can be alone; I need somewhere where I can be alone, _she chanted weakly as she paced in front of the familiar wall. "I need somewhere to be alone!" she yelped, not fully aware that she'd said it out loud until she heard her voice echo back at her.

Hermione closed her eyes and stopped, tears leaking down onto her swollen cheeks. "Please," she breathed. "I just need to be alone,"

She opened them again to see the familiar black arch in the stone. "Thank you," she breathed and without hesitation flung herself through the door and onto the awaiting bed, face down into the pillows.

And there she cried.

* * *

><p>Deep in Hogwarts, from his advantage point, the figure was angry.<p>

* * *

><p>George Weasley lay face up on the crimson love-seat in the Gryffindor common room.<p>

He had ditched Hagrid, preferring the company of the cherry red sofas to the one of the Forbidden Forest, and knew that he would have to pay for it.

Patrolling the corridors was one of Filch's favourite punishments for the lonely twin for it was evident that it was the one that bored George the most out of all the numerous punishments they had tried.

The redhead smiled back at the memories of the previous 'punishments'.

His favourite had been when McGonagall had put him in a detention in the dungeons with his x-girlfriend, Avery Baliss, now also the Head Girl at Hogwarts, hoping that her strict reputation combined with her hatred for the boy who had dumped her would be a suitable way to put the 'rules' into his head. George still remembered the Professor's face when she had walked in two hours later to find them making out ferociously in the storage cupboard behind Snape's desk.

She had yelled at Avery, who had run from the room crying, for her 'disgusting behaviour' and sent George off to help Hagrid deal with those ghastly Blast-Ended Skrewts' for the first years. McGonagall had had a hell of a row at him but it had been worth it.

George sighed, lifting his fingers above his head so that the backs of his hands were facing the ceiling. The skin was blistered to an angry red from his encounter with the Skrewts' but he couldn't be bothered to go to Madam Pomfrey.

He smirked and dropped his hands back onto his chest. The girls liked his scars.

Being at Hogwarts without his other half had changed George. He was lazier and sloppy in the things he did, no longer caring for the pranks he had once lived for with his brother and it was evident that he couldn't care less about his life. George wanted Fred back. And if ditching Hagrid was the only way to stop the pain of his brother's absence, then, so be it.

He liked Hagrid and hated disappointing him but sometimes he just… couldn't help it. He missed his twin so much that it was almost painful and sometimes the only way to ease the pain was with a distraction. And the punishments certainly where distracting him.

The only annoying bit about the Headmistress's failed attempts at 'putting him in line' was that each time she would give him never ending lectures on how it is important to treat the staff with respect and all that. But now George had a way around it.

The way he had it figured, if he ditched Hagrid but then went straight to patrolling the corridors then McGonagall wouldn't have to yell at him. It wasn't a great plan and he would probably end up being yelled at anyway but it was worth a shot. Merlin knew he hated patrolling with Filch breathing down his neck.

He heard the voices in the corridor outside and sighed again. Time to start patrolling.

With a heavy heart, George heaved himself off the smooth fabric he had been resting on and walked towards the voices. Just before he reached it, the Fat Lady swung outwards and a herd of Gryffindors' swamped the common room. George, being the tallest, wove easily through the crowd and made his way to the moving staircases. His plan was to start on the seventh floor then weave his way down again.

"Here goes nothing," he muttered sourly, before looking behind him and making his way to the deserted seventh floor.

* * *

><p>Draco watched, mesmerised as Granger flew out of the room.<p>

Had he seen _tears _on her face? Had he hurt her enough to make her _cry?_

Dazed, the Slytherin fell back and sat on his green sheets. Draco looked at the lock of hair he had taken. It was a lovely brown, silky smooth and less frizzy then it looked from afar, ending in a soft curl at the tips.

Suddenly he realised what he was doing and shook it off. He would not feel sorry for the Mudblood. If she had cried so be it, in fact, even better that she was that upset! That'll teach her to act like that!

But Draco wasn't buying it. With a sigh and a short shake of his head he pocketed her hair and ran from the room.

He was going to try and find her. After all, they hadn't set up their meeting times yet.

* * *

><p>The patrolling had gone better than expected. On the sixth floor George had managed to bust two Slytherins' making out in a storage cupboard and had subtracted ten points from the green hourglass and at the top of the stairs to the seventh floor he had fond two more Slytherins' terrorising a younger Hufflepuff. Another ten points.<p>

"You know there are many things you shouldn't do at Hogwarts," George had said loudly upon seeing them. "However one of the things you _should _do, which would be the most appropriate thing for you to do now," he'd stepped forward and knocked the two Slytherins' to the floor. "Is run," he finished darkly. Not his greatest threat but it had worked. The boys, with two identical yelps beforehand, had turned on their heels and sprinted as fast as they could down the other staircase, the fatter one tripping in his haste to get away from the bigger student.

George had turned back to the Hufflepuff and made sure that he was all right before awarding ten points to the house for his bravery.

George walked slower then he would have now, taking his time to admire the wall where he knew the Room of Requirement would be, only stopping when he was directly in front of it.

He smiled softly, remembering the D.A meetings in the last year he and Fred had been students. Oh they sure where the good days.

George closed his eyes and inhaled, enjoying his surroundings more than he ever thought he would as the memories flushed over him.

Maybe he could…? No he had to keep patrolling, but maybe for just a minute…? He _had_ been wanting a minute alone for quite some time now.

George opened his eyes and looked around hastily. When he was satisfied that there was no one there he turned his attention back to the wall and thought his request.

_I need somewhere I can be alone._

Almost immediately the door appeared in front of him. George grinned at the knowledge that he still hadn't lost his touch and walked forward to push open the tall wood.

The minute the door opened, George was made aware of a soft bubbling noise but as he moved further in he realised that it wasn't bubbling at all. It was sobbing.

With this realisation in mind, George threw open the door and looked in to see who was crying.

* * *

><p>Hermione was so wound up in her tears she didn't notice that somebody had come in until that somebody spoke.<p>

"_Hermione?_"

Hermione, though surprised that somebody was there, did not lift her head to confirm that the voice was whom she thought it was, voting to guess instead of showing them her puffy face.

"George?" she croaked.

Her words where muffled by the bed but George understood. "Oh 'Mione what happened?" he circled the bed and pulled the covers up, sliding underneath and taking her with him.

She immediately latched onto him as she cried. "It's ok," he murmured, tightening his grip on her. "Shh, shh it's ok I'm here," he crooned, stroking her hair, not caring in the slightest as her salty tears stained the shoulder of his shirt. "What happened? What's wrong?"

Hermione cried uncontrollably for a few more seconds before she hiccupped. "M-M-Malfoy's a-a-a g-g-git"

George chuckled softly, "tell me something I _don't_ know," but as he said it he realised something. "Wait what'd he do?" he cupped her face and brought it into his view. "Did he hurt you? Did he call you a 'Mudblood'? If he touched you I swear on Godric's grave I'll–"

She cut him off. "I-I-It's-s f-fine h-he j-just p-pulled a-a-a bit of m-my h-hair o-out," she surprised herself by answering truthfully.

"He _what?_" George snarled.

"P-Pulled a b-bit of m-my h-hair out th-that's all," she stuttered.

"That little bastard!" he hissed, grabbing the covers and flinging them off.

"N-NO!" Hermione grabbed his collar and pulled at it. "P-P-Please d-don't leave G-George!"

The older Weasley looked down at her pleading face and felt himself relax. "Ok," he sighed, pulling the covers back up. "Ok I'll stay. Shh, relax I'm here," George made a mental note to find Malfoy later.

Hermione wasn't sure how long she spent like that, curled up next to George Weasley, but when the lighting of the room grew dark and a small fire lit up in a fireplace that she was sure hadn't been there before, she knew it was time to leave.

"George?" she whispered.

"Hmm?" he grumbled sleepily.

"How long have we been here?" she murmured.

George blinked down at her then lifted his right arm, which until now had been wrapped around her and squinted at the old watch on it. "About an hour and a half," he dropped his arm around her again and pulled her closer, his eyes peeling shut again.

"Oh no!" she whined. "I've missed Arithmancy! Professor Vector's going to kill me!" Hermione looked up to see George sleeping again. "George! George! We have to wake up!"

"Five more minutes," he growled.

"George it's Lunch now we have to go!" she tried. "My Astronomy homework is to be handed in by Lunch! We need to – Oh!" an image of Malfoy had shot up into her head and all the events from earlier sprung back to mind. Tears started streaming down her face and she felt a flash of anger spike through her. What the hell was wrong with her! Why did a handful of hair hurt her so much!

"What?" George opened his eyes lazily but was immediately awake when he saw her expression. "Oh I'm sorry 'Mione I forgot it's your favourite lesson!"

"No, no it's not that," she whipped her eyes with the back of her hand. "C'mon we have to go,"

George reluctantly let go of her and stepped out of the bed, sleepiness still coating his thoughts.

Hermione stumbled slightly as she untangled from the cream sheets and fell, smacking her knees on the cold floor. "Ow!" she yelped picking herself up slowly.

"You ok 'Mione?" George appeared behind her and helped her up, his calloused hands scraping at her skin slightly. "Easy now,"

"What'd you do to your hands?" she murmured idly.

"Oh that," George couldn't help smirking behind her. "The Skrewts' decided to cook them,"

Hermione laughed at this. "Yeah they _do,_ do that sometimes,"

"Ok let's get you out of here," he murmured, wrapping his arm securely around her. "Want me to take you to Madam Pomfrey?"

"No I need to get back to the tower to get my Astronomy paper,"

The redhead chuckled behind her. "You and your homework,"

"It's important!" she protested.

"Sure it is," George rolled his eyes and with that they exited the Room of Requirement.

* * *

><p>Draco stopped and put his hands on his knees.<p>

He was sweating mercilessly and his breaths' where coming in pants. Where was she?

Draco had searched a good half hour after Granger had run out on him before giving up and going to class only to realise that she wasn't there either.

He'd spent the whole two periods flashing anxious glances at the door, despite his attempts to remind himself whom he was dealing with. After class he'd overheard Weasel and Potter talking worriedly about not seeing her for a good few hours and that had set him off again.

_What the hell is wrong with you!_ He'd shrieked at himself the whole time he was searching but no matter how much his mind tried to reason with him, his body just kept going. If something happened to the Mudblood he would be responsible and, despite his furious attempts to show he didn't have one, this fact would rest on his already heavy conscience.

As he straightened up, Draco's mind tried to dissuade him again. _It won't technically be your fault. Nobody has proof that she was with you at all today so they wouldn't come to you in the first place. Besides what do you care? She's just a Mudblood! _He cringed outwardly at the word but shook it off as part of the bet. _And if she were ok then there'd be too much to explain to her about why you came after her. You're a soulless git to her Draco remember? She wouldn't expect any less of you._

But just as his mind took over and he started turning back the sensation of holding her limp frame came back and a longing sensation hit him full on. He gasped as the weight crashed down on him so hard that it knocked him to his knees.

_No Draco! You've been alone a long time and Pansy wasn't what you'd call _light!_ It's just your body talking! Turn around, find yourself a horny chick and forget about her!_ But again the feeling of her so limp in his arms hit him.

No. This wasn't about conscience anymore. This was about her and him. He needed to find her. _Needed_ it like a thirst that would never end.

The longing was so powerful now that it scared him. He could barely breathe let alone get up.

_DON'T BE SUCH AN IDIOT! _His mind shrieked so loud that Draco heard ringing in his ears. But one last image of Krum holding her and he was gone.

Jumping up to his feet, he sprinted headlong up the stairs to the only floor he hadn't tried. But as he reached it the Room of Requirement's door was already opening and what he saw made pure rage bubble into his chest.

George Weasley was holding her, probably helping her but Draco couldn't care less. He could see her limping and knew what she must feel like in the lucky Weasel's arms. His vision coated in red as a coiling serpent of anger exposed its fangs in his chest.

But before he could run forward and make a scene his cunning mind kicked in.

_Now is not the time._ Draco's response to _this _voice was completely different. He growled at his inner voice the serpent hissing inside him. _Don't get me wrong Draco; you'll get your turn with Weasel. _The blond twitched angrily in his frozen stance. _Just… be… patient…_

Reluctantly, the Slytherin stepped back into the shadows of the seventh floor corridor, knowing, even through his rage, that his mind was right.

He just had to be patient.

* * *

><p><em>yay there it is! don't you love it when Malfoy goes psycho? yeah we all do!<em>

_anyway there it is all spiced up and ready for the next chapter which - as a special treat to myself for a seemingly__ successful grading - will be quite yummy. hehehehehehehe._

_alright i must leave before my seemingly harmful mother will bite my head off for being up late but i'll start writing as soon as i wake up. special thanks to MandyHowlOwl150 who made me smile and giggle when i read his/her (xcuse the last part - no pun intended just being careful) review and also to Dobby555 who also made me squeal. also special thanx to everybody else who at sum point in the past has made my day with an inspiring review._

_alright! night felas and see you soon!_

_luv ya all_

R.


	13. Ch13: Sensations, Followers and Shadows

**nooot J.K**

hey guys i am. SO. SORRY. it's been like 5 days (by my count) and i only get ch13 up now! i'm sooooo sorry about that! i have been so busy in the past few days that whenever i had free time i wanted to chill it was my birthday on the 29 so i couldn't do much then either.

anyway the reason why this took so much longer was because i wanted to put a little more effort into it and am now proud to announce that this chapter is a good 2 nearly three thousand words longer than the previous (i think :S)! either way it's longer than i've ever done! yay!

ok enjoy:

oh and p.s; some of the stuff in this is quite obvious but i wanted to get them together as much as possible. + just a heads up the next chapters gunna be cool! that is unless i bump my head and lose my memory (unlikely) ok luv ya and leave ya.

* * *

><p>Hermione had run to her dormitory to fetch her homework so fast that she had barely said her goodbye to George, only stopping for a split second to say thank you to him before sprinting headlong down the corridor to the Astronomy Tower. She'd handed her work in to Professor Sinistra, who had frowned wordlessly at her, before turning on her heel to find Professor Vector.<p>

Her Arithmancy teacher had indeed been furious at Hermione's absence from her class but had been quick to forgive upon seeing her extra long essay on how many numbers were needed to predict death.

After that Hermione had just collapsed on her bed, not really hungry after the 'hour and a half' of solid crying she had spent with George.

The free period after lunch had started shortly afterwards and Hermione was in the mood to treat herself so about a minute before the bell rang, announcing the return of her friends, she headed into the school grounds and sat herself on the straw coloured crass under the willow tree by the lake.

She let her head fall back onto the old bark as the wind cooled her face. What was she going to do? It had been just under a week since she'd received the letter from T.S.P and still she hadn't found anything. Hermione put her face in her hands. She was well and properly, for lack of a better word, screwed.

After a half hour of looking at all the ways she couldn't get out of the situation, Hermione made her way down to the dungeons for Potions with Professor Slughorn.

_Shit,_ she swore silently. Professor Slughorn and the Slytherins'. _Well here goes. _And with that she pushed open the door to the Potions room.

* * *

><p>Draco's eyes were on the door the minute the doorknob twitched. Granger's bushy head appeared through it, her eyes widening when she saw that she was slightly late as she quickly apologised to Slughorn. He watched her as she walked in and sat next to Weasel and Potter.<p>

He held his breath. Nothing. The longing was gone.

Maybe the voice in his head was right. Maybe he'd just needed a healthy session from a chick that wasn't Pansy.

But if he'd needed just that then what had _happened _to him in that corridor? Had it been just a weird moment? Had he inhaled some toxic fumes that were sending him off his boat?

Draco didn't know but figured that some things' were better left like that.

"Alright class!" Slughorn clapped his hands together. "Settle down nicely because today will be just as exiting as last lesson!" he beamed. "As you may recall, last lesson we did the Felix Felicis, and naturally that was awarded to Mr Potter here for his excellent brewing…"

Draco sneered at the back of Potter's head and let the Professor's voice die out. He could copy off Blaise afterwards.

* * *

><p>Hermione frowned at Harry as Slughorn gestured to him. <em>Stupid Prince, <em>she thought harshly as he clutched his Potions book.

"I am _this _close to telling on you, Harry!" she snarled at him under her breath, putting up her thumb and forefinger until they were nearly touching. "_This_ close!"

"C'mon 'Mione," he nudged her with his elbow.

"Don't 'c'mon 'Mione' me," she crossed her arms and frowned deeper.

"Yeah haven't you noticed, Harry?" Ron growled. "Hermione's _in a_ _bad mood_,"

Hermione blinked and looked at him. "What the hell are you talking about?"

"Yeah like you wouldn't know," he muttered and she could have sworn Harry kicked him under the table.

"What are you implying exactly, _Ron?_" she hissed, angry at his sudden attitude.

Ron didn't answer.

"It's just that," Harry turned to her. "You've been acting really–"

"–and it's because of that that I want you all to try and follow Harry's example," Professor Slughorn's voice rose in excitement, cutting Harry off. "Alright I think that for this lesson it would be nice for you to have different pairs!" he beamed seemingly oblivious to all the groans. "Now I'll be pairing the people that failed with the people that passed so to get some variety in there!" he turned and picked up a piece of parchment off his desk. "Now some of you might find that the person you have been paired with might not be to your liking but don't fret it will only be for today and one homework session. As for today's potion we will be working on the Draught of Living Death. We will be doing this so that next week we can attempt the antidote, the Wiggenweld Potion, with this fresh in our minds. The Drought is a particularly difficult potion and it is for that reason that I have decided to put the least talented with the talented. I should warn you to be especially careful when dealing with the sopophorous bean for it tends to be a little fiddly," Slughorn chuckled to himself at this. "You should also be careful not to ingest any of the Drought whilst brewing for you might just sleep too soundly afterwards," for a moment Professor Slughorn just stared at the floor absently before he straightened up and clapped his hands again. "And now to put you into pairs," he looked down at the parchment in his hands. "Now I have never been too good at this but whilst talking to Professor Snape I found out that he had put you into pairs in his lesson too!" he smiled delightfully.

_Oh shit, _Hermione thought straightening in her chair.

"So he helped me out a bit! Right, right let's see…" the Professor squinted and Hermione felt herself suck in a breath and keep it there.

"Mr Finnigan and–"

Hermione yelped so loud that Slughorn cut off. She had just had the sensation that something was crawling up her leg but when she looked down she saw nothing. Looking back up at the Professor, who was now looking at her with a most peculiar expression, Hermione flushed a beetroot red before muttering an apology and looking back down at her desk.

Hermione zoned out from the pairs her teacher was reading out to take a closer look as herself. There had definitely been something on her leg.

"Mr Weasley and Miss Brown, and Miss Granger with Mr Malfoy,"

Hermione snapped back to the present and sat, if it was possible, straighter in her seat.

_You've got to be _kidding_ me!_ She growled internally, whipping around to look at Malfoy. Hermione knew her reaction was slightly extreme. Snape had helped Slughorn; it should have been obvious that she'd end up with Malfoy. But she couldn't help it; a low hiss escaped her lips. _This is like the second time in a_ day!

The blond sneered at her from his table at the back but before she could do the same, the sensation of something moving across her skin made her jump again. But this time it was just her robe. Hermione turned back to glare at her _partner_ but he had already shifted his attention.

"Alright if you could please move to sit with your partners now and start as soon as you're ready," Professor Slughorn turned and set the parchment down, a chalk raising itself to write on the board behind him. "Next lesson we will have a few question on the Drought so be sure to learn something from y–"

A balled up piece of paper hit her in the temple. Turning around she saw Malfoy with his hand poised in the air, a sneer fixed on his pale lips. When he caught sight of her angry expression he gave a crooked grin before putting up his hand, palm up and curling in his index finger twice.

Sighing, she got up and stomped over to his desk, ignoring Zabini beside him until he freed the seat.

"Have fun," the Slytherin taunted over his shoulder as he sauntered out of his seat.

Hermione shook her head and fell sulkily into her chair. "I can't believe this," she muttered dryly under her breath.

Malfoy shot her a look but otherwise pretended not to hear her, shifting his cauldron to the centre of the table and setting the fire underneath it.

Hermione murmured a quiet '_Aguamenti_' when he moved away and watched dully as the water poured in at exactly the right quantity.

"Go get the ingredients," Malfoy ordered.

Hermione froze before turning to him. "Listen!" she hissed. "_I _am the better student here and _I _am the one _you _should be learning from! So if anybody's going to be the assistant _it'll be you!_"

Malfoy raised an eyebrow. "Somebody's _str-e-e-e-ss-y,_" he extended the 'e' in the word and leant in to evidence it. "Wassamatter Granger? Somebody pull on your hair too hard?" he smirked.

Hermione glared. "Your such a child!" and without further response, Hermione got up and went to fetch the wormwood, asphodel, valerian roots, Sloth brain ("oh!" she gagged, pinching her nose,) and the sopophorous bean, only just managing not to trip on Lavender's bag. She set the ingredients on the table and began sorting them into the order they would go into the cauldron.

Hermione and Malfoy spent the next half hour in a stiff silence; the only thing breaking it was her murmured instructions. Before too long the heat in the room became unbearable and the students began taking off uniform. Hermione had already removed her jumper and was now brewing in just her shirt, skirt and red tie, her robe and jumper thrown over the back of her chair. Malfoy too had removed his robe and jumper, his white top sticking to his back in sweat.

"Ok now add the valerian and it should turn… lilac…" Hermione huffed, whipping her top lip with the back of her sleeve. "The Sloth brain," she murmured, chucking in the slimy substance with her forefinger and thumb. "And now for the–"

"Sopophorous bean," Malfoy finished for her, reaching forward and picking up the shrivelled object. He held it against the table with his left hand and picked up the silver knife in the other.

"You want me to–?"

"I am perfectly capable of _cutting a bean _Granger," Malfoy snapped. "Why don't you concentrate on stirring the cauldron until it's," he looked up at the instructions. "'Clear as water'?"

Hermione gritted her teeth. "Because you need to add the sopophorous bean first you moronic idiot!" she hissed.

Malfoy blinked and looked back at the board. "Oh."

"How on earth you manage to cure me and not _poison_ me escapes me!"

Malfoy shot her a look. "What the hell is your problem today?"

"My _problem?_" she laughed hysterically.

"Yes,"

"My _problem?_" she laughed louder.

"That's what I said isn't it?"

"My _problem_, exactly," she hissed. "Is that I was partnered _twice _in _one day_ with the _only _individual that persists to _insult_ me every time I see them, pulled a chunk of my hair out earlier today and made me miss my Arithmancy lesson!" she took in a breath. "_That_ is my problem!"

"Hey I only pulled out four ok!" he protested.

"Oh _I'm sorry!_" she scoffed. "I was too preoccupied being _in pain! _How silly of me! Next time, I'll save you the trouble and _count_ my missing strands!"

Malfoy just blinked at her sudden explosion.

She sighed, putting her head in her hands. "Now can you crush the damn bean before the potion goes misty?"

He looked back down at his hands, still clutching the knife and bean. "Er – yeah. Right..." he picked up the piece of cutlery and poised the blade. The bean squirmed in his grip and went flying across the desk. Frowning, Malfoy picked it up, ignoring the squeals it was giving off and but the point of the blade to it. It started thrashing madly to the point that he had to flatten him palm and try to stab it through his fingertips. With a sudden jerk and a hiss, Malfoy nipped his skin and started bleeding slightly.

Hermione sighed as he jerked his hand away and swore, before sticking the wound into his mouth to suck the blood away. "Oh let me have a look," she growled snatching his hand towards her. It was a one-inch gash on the top of his palm, deep enough to bleed continuously and cause a nasty sting. Frowning, Hermione reached for her wand and tapped it gently over the gash. A small bandage appeared out of thin air and wrapped around his hand, tightening slightly as she tweaked her wand. "There," she looked up to see him looking down at and blushed slightly and averting her eyes.

"Thank you," he murmured so quiet she barely heard it.

"Right," she coughed. "With the bean you need to crush it, not cut it," she picked up the knife and wiped it of his blood before handing it to him hilt first. She felt his eyes on her for another second before he took the blade.

Hesitantly she placed his free left hand back over the bean and made him tilt the knife and push down with the flat side. "_See?_ Crush not cut," she'd wanted to say it in an irritated voice but a half strangled murmur came out instead.

"Like this?" he whispered, his hot breath brushing her ear as his hands started to move underneath hers. She shuddered.

"Er – um – yeah," she slipped her fingers under the knife and pulled out the now leaking bean. She was about to hand it to him when she realised just how close he was and looked up.

She stared at him for a few seconds, noticing the sweat sticking his white-blond hair to his forehead and how the green tie around his neck hung crookedly from when he'd loosened it and the soft gleam in his eyes…

"Er Granger?" he murmured.

"Hmm?" she blinked.

"The potions misting,"

Hermione's head snapped to the side and she saw that it was indeed misting. A thick fog was steaming madly out of the top, obscuring everyone from view. Hermione was briefly relieved to see that nobody could have possibly seen their awkward exchange but panic took over her as she watched the vapour grow thicker. She yelped and shoved the bean over the top, squeezing it for all that it was worth before dropping the shell and frantically stirring counter-clockwise seven times, watching in more relief as the fog cleared. The water was not as clear as it should have been but for the first time, Hermione settled.

Malfoy howled behind her, the sound obscured slightly by the dying hiss of the potion that was clearing still. Hermione spun to face him.

"Don't _laugh!_" she hissed. "Our potion nearly blew up!"

But that just made him howl louder, tears now leaking from his.

"_Why are you laughing?_" she spat.

"'_I _am the better student here and _I _am the one _you _should be learning from! So if anybody's going to be the assistant _it'll be you!_'" he pulled a shrill voice in an attempt to imitate her, still doubled over in laughter. "And then–" he gasped, waving his hand in the direction of the cauldron and then laughing harder, clutching his stomach as he doubled over.

Hermione crossed her arms and glared at him, as he collapsed behind his chair.

"What's going on here?" Professor Slughorn came out of nowhere behind her.

Malfoy spluttered and jumped up, his pale cheeks still slightly pink. "Sorry Professor I was just – er – looking for my… contact lens!" he coughed feebly. "Must'a dropped it – hmm – on… the floor,"

"Smooth," Hermione murmured out the corner of her mouth.

Professor Slughorn frowned at him, oblivious to her comment. "Hmm… ok!" he smiled clapping his hands again. "How are you getting on – oh my, Miss Granger! Not your best work now is it?" he frowned again peering down at the cauldron.

Hermione flushed and Malfoy snickered under his breath beside her.

"Never the less!" he piped. "Still closer to perfect than any student could muster on a normal day! Just a little disappointing for your standards that's all," and then he turned and hurried away. "Alright class! Finish off your potions, flask them and bring them to the front!"

Hermione turned to Malfoy. "Happy now?"

"Quite so, yes," he said through stiff lips. It was evident he was trying to repress a smile.

Hermione growled, pulled out two flasks and filled them both with identical amounts, corking them, and chucking one at Malfoy, secretly hoping that it would crash and spray him.

To her immense surprise, and disappointment, his hand slashed out like a whip and he snatched it out of the air.

He quirked an eyebrow and smirked. "What?" he asked at her half baffled, half annoyed expression.

Hermione rolled her eyes and turned away from him. "Show off," she muttered, emptying the cauldron before scooping up all the excess ingredients, with her wand, and chucking them in the bin.

The lesson ended soon after that. Slughorn gave them an E for the Drought and reminded the class that the Potions room would be open for them anytime this week and they were to brew then. Hermione grumbled slightly at the thought of having to brew a potion and write an essay with the ferret that caused her misery for so long. It was his stupid fault she'd gotten an E, distracting her like that!

Never the less, she was going to have to set a date with him, something they had skipped when he'd pulled her hair out, so as Hermione finished the last lesson of the day the first place she went to was the library so she could start on the Arithmancy homework from the lesson she'd missed.

Once she was done she would go to the portrait that led to the Prefect's room. With some luck she would catch Zabini and ask where Malfoy was.

Hermione sighed down at her paper. She had missed the lesson and wasn't sure about some of the Latin symbols she had to translate. Scratching her head she peaked through her hair at Madam Pince. _Surely she wouldn't realise if I just nipped to the Restricted Section?_ Hermione thought tentatively. Sighing she put her head in her hands and groaned softly. She needed a specific book that she knew she wouldn't find anywhere else.

Hermione looked over her shoulder at the woman again. Her piercing eyes were fixed on a copy of _The Daily Prophet. _Surely if she went to the book shelves on the right and then circled round…

Hermione pushed her chair back slowly, trying to keep her noise down to a minimum, and tiptoed, as unsuspicious as she could, down the rows on the right hand side.

_Now if I just turn this angle–,_ there was a hiss of movement behind her and she spun around half expecting Madam Pince to be there with her thin arms crossed and a scowl on her face.

But as Hermione scanned the darkness at the end of the row, there was nobody there. Swallowing a little harder than usual she turned back and started walking again.

No less than ten steps later she picked up movement behind her again, closer this time.

Looking over her shoulder again, Hermione felt her heart speed up as she caught slight movement in the corner of her eye. Breathing hard she spun round fully but again she couldn't see anything apart from the numerous books that lined the rows.

Hermione gulped uneasily and hurried forward circling around the middle of the Library to the Restricted Section, where she knew there would be another row leading to the safety of a watching Madam Pince, no longer worried in the slightest about what she would say seeing her come out from the direction of the forbidden shelves.

About ten paces from the eerily dark section of the Hogwarts Library a low scrape of shoe against wood sounded behind her and Hermione's heart all but leapt into her throat. She whimpered slightly, hands shaking madly as she froze, her ears craning desperately as she tried to catch a sound from behind her, reaching for her wand only to realise she'd left it in her school robes on the back of the library chair.

A book fell from the shelf about a foot into the darkness sending Hermione into a dead sprint, heavy footsteps thudding behind her. Before she could realise where she was going she took the wrong turn and plummeted into the direction of the book she had been looking for, half tripping in her haste and catching herself on a book shelf.

White-hot pain shot through the fingertips that touched it and with a loud yelp Hermione jerked her hand away so hard that she spiralled backward and slammed against the adjacent shelf.

_Smack, smack, smack, smack, smack,_ souls of feet hit against the wooden floor getting nearer in the precious time she was wasting. Scrambling in her haste, Hermione shoved off the wall and hurried forward the steps growing dangerously loud behind her. She shot a look over he shoulder to see the figure of a tall male running furiously on her heels. It was too dark to see anything about him apart from the slight flash of his white teeth, bared in the faint light. Hermione felt her speed lessen as she tried to identify the figure and whipped her head back round.

_Smack! Smack! Smack! Smack! Smack! _The figure was close. Too close. He was closing in on her. She could practically feel him behind her. He was going to catch her. His hand snagged her back. Hermione rounded a corner in a desperate attempt to– _SMACK._

With such force that it nearly sent Hermione spiralling backwards, she collided with somebody. Hard.

"Woah! What the he– _Hermione?_"

Hermione looked up at the sound of her name and felt relief wash over her with so much force she started to tremble, gripping her saviour's top like it was the last life jacket on the Titanic. George.

Behind her she heard a high-pitched squeak as the figure skidded round the corner. She still couldn't see his face but now noticed the wand in his hand.

"Wait who–?"

Evidently surprised by George's appearance the figure turned and ran in the direction he'd come from, only stopping for a split second to yelp as his shoulder hit a bookshelf nearby.

"Geez is he–?"

George stared, mouth slightly agape, at the space where the guy had disappeared.

"Well that was weird," he cleared his throat.

Hermione, who still had her eyes locked on the space where _he _had disappeared, hadn't really noticed George was talking to her until his hot fingers found her chin and forced her to look up.

"'Mione? Who _was_ that?" he asked. "Why was that guy chasing you? 'Mione," George sighed, his eyes closing briefly before opening again. "What's going on?"

Hermione stared at him, into his big brown eyes filled with concern.

"I–" she started, cutting off to breath for the first time in, what felt like, a good minute. "I–I don't know," she stammered, looking up at him. "I don't know,"

But of course she was lying. Hermione had a very good idea who might have followed her into the depths of the Hogwarts library with a wand in hand. And, judging by the expression that she missed when she turned to look after the figure so did George.

* * *

><p>After getting back to her stuff on the table of the Library, and swearing that she'd never leave her wand again, Hermione said goodbye to George and headed out. She would get a slip from Professor Vector and come back for the book she needed, feeling better with the idea that Madam Pince went into the dark rather than her.<p>

George vowed silence about 'the guy in the Library' on the condition that she _would _tell somebody eventually. Reluctantly, she agreed.

After dumping her stuff on the bed, picking up her wand and a book in the process, Hermione made her way to the, only too familiar, portrait that led to the Prefect's room. Looking around she sighed, pulled out her book and settled down on the floor near the entrance, wondering how long she was going to have to sit there.

* * *

><p>George looked both ways before crossing the deserted corridor.<p>

He had let Hermione go on the one condition that she tell somebody about it soon, preferably Dumbledore, only really letting go of her until she reluctantly agreed. There was something going on. And George had a pretty good guess who was behind it.

Everybody was at Dinner so it had been as easy as breathing to sneak up to the Owlery and send the letter that would lure the kid to him.

Now all he had to do was wait.

* * *

><p>Draco had been eating in silence for the past half hour, desperately trying to avoid any talk of Granger. <em>God this bet sucks,<em> he thought bitterly, _couple of days and I'm going crazy!_ He scowled down at his chicken before stabbing it with renewed vigour.

"Drakie? What's the matter? You've been awful silent…" Pansy.

Draco had made the mistake of sitting down before the girl and was now stuck next to her.

"Not in the mood, Pans," he warned.

She pouted. "Are you sure I can't fix it for you, Drakie?"

"Oh Pans," Blaise murmured pinching the bridge of his nose but all the while keeping his eyes fixed on Draco.

But Draco didn't have time to make a stinging remark just then a single black owl swooped in and landed with a thud in front of him, his foot hitting a bowl of soup that promptly sprayed Pansy beside him. Not even trying to repress his grin at her shrieks, Draco reached forward and snatched the envelope from its beak before ushering it violently off the table.

He gave Pansy one last look before getting up to read his letter. He'd found out recently that it was a dangerous thing to open letters in Pansy's presence.

He reached the doors of the Great Hall and opened up the soft parchment.

_The tree by the Greenhouse – alone –_

_7; 30(pm)_

_Hermione_

Malfoy quirked an eyebrow and looked at the smart wristwatch his father had gotten him. It read 7; 20. Well this was going to be interesting.

And with a quick backward glance he made his way to the tree by the Greenhouse.

* * *

><p>George positioned himself in the shadows by the Greenhouse and waited.<p>

* * *

><p>Hermione huffed and shut her book with a snap. She had been sitting there for over an hour and no Zabini. She looked at her watch. 8; 45. Surely he was out of Dinner by <em>now.<em>

Sighing, she concluded that it was best to leave. Maybe Zabini didn't sleep in his Prefect room. Maybe that was why Malfoy had taken her there. Because he would never know.

Hermione gripped the wall for support and hoisted herself up, snatching her bag and sliding her book in. She just wanted to go to the dorm and sleep but just as she straightened up a horrible moan of pain echoed up the stairs in front of her followed by a loud gasp.

Hermione whipped out her wand and pointed it at the empty archway.

Another moan and a scraping sound.

"Who there?" she called, her eyebrows furrowing as the scraping sound continued.

There was another intake of breath and a whimper then suddenly a yell that made Hermione jump so hard her bag fell to the floor with a loud bang. The movement stopped.

"Blaise?" a broken voice called. "Blaise, help." It whimpered.

Hermione ran forward, pointing her wand out in front of her. She turned the corner and froze.

Half way up the steps there was a heap of bloodied mess, the only hint that it was a person being the hitching sound of breathing coming from it.

"Blaise," it moaned, lifting what could only be a head.

Grey eyes met brown, both of them widening at what they saw.

"_Granger?_" he choked.

"_Malfoy_," and before she could think about what she was doing, Hermione launched herself down the steps to the aid of the blond ferret she hated more than anything else.

**thanks to all the people that wished me luck for my blue belt! ur all soo kind!**

* * *

><p><em>awwwww! isn't it adorable when somebody's bleeding to death and a lovely little girl saves them?<em>

_ok good news before i go. this chapter was meant to be longer so the stuff that i cut off for the clyffy is now Ch 14 - i.e i have a head start. fingers crossed!_

_ok see you soooon_

R.


	14. Ch14: Bones, Snape and Patience

**i don't own Harry Potter otherwise i would be rich and wouldn't be here.**

heyyyy. here it is. short A/N this time ("S'bout time you shut up!")

yeah so... enjoy

p.s I:M GOING TO WATCH THE LAST HARRY POTTER MOVIE TOMORROW AND AM PROBABLY GOING TO CRY BECAUSE I HAVE A SECRET CRUSH ON FRED AND GEORGE AS WELL AS DRACO MALFOY! For any of you that have already seen it... YOU ROCK!

* * *

><p>Malfoy was a mess. Numerous gashes decorated his pale, translucent-like skin, the deepest ones on his upper lip and left eyebrow. He had a massive bruise very close to being a black eye and there was one long, deep gash along his hairline, bleeding crimson liquid all down his face. His left hand was clutching his right side and his breath was coming out in tortured pants. His knuckles were scraped to bleeding stumps and the four fingers on his right hand were almost definitely broken, judging by the angry purple they were becoming.<p>

Doubling over slightly, he coughed violently, spraying blood all over himself.

"Malfoy!" she yelled. "You cowardly pig what did you do to yourself?"

"Don't call me a pig," he grumbled, leaning in to put his head back against the railing of the staircase, his face relaxing into a mask of exhaustion.

"Same old Malfoy," she muttered, rolling her eyes and smiling slightly as she looped his waist with her arm and slung his heavy one over her shoulder. "C'mon," she sighed. "Let's get your smart non-piggy arse to the Hospital Wing,"

He groaned into her as she lifted him, coughing up more blood and staining her school robes.

Carrying the Slytherin up the stairs was harder than she'd predicted and by the time she reached the top he was bleeding too much for the Hospital Wing.

"What's the password?" she huffed.

"Alliance," he coughed, not bothering to question her as more blood poured over his lip and down his front. At his words the portrait swung inwards and Hermione helped him climb into it. Once in the common room she headed up the three steps into the room with the snake on it, stumbling in and helping him lie down on the green sheets.

As he fell back a single horrible howl of agony sounded and he clutched his ribs.

Hermione jumped forward feeling her worry increase as she saw the tears streaking down his blood soaked face.

"Malfoy? – Malfoy! What is it? Where does it hurt? Where-?!" she snapped, holding his face and forcing him to look at her.

The blond sneered at her before lifting a trembling hand and indicating to the right side of his ribcage. "There," he growled, shutting his eyes again and moaning briefly. "It hurts when – I breathe,"

"Ok, ok. Let me see," she murmured, sliding her hands gently under his, all the while keeping her eyes locked with his, but the minute she put the slightest bit of pressure his eyes shot wide open and he let out a low shriek and squirmed madly on the bed, his back arching up. Hermione yelped and yanked her hands back watching as the sound dissolved into pants and his back fell back down. "For the love of fucking Salazar, Granger! Your meant to be nursing me not shattering my ribcage!"

"I didn't mean to hurt you!" she hissed. "Stop being so – urgh! – So, _you!_" Hermione stomped her foot childishly before sighing in exasperation and sneering at a now smirking Malfoy.

"So, 'me'?"

"Yes so, you!"

"You mean awesome, gorgeous and mouth wateringly tasty?" he smirked, panting through his teeth.

"No. I mean childish, selfish and," she sighed, "currently bleeding to death on his best friend's bed with no help from me,"

He stared at her, as she looked him over, the smirk slowly disappearing. "You forgot mouth wateringly tasty," he murmured.

Hermione was about to send him a glare but something about his shirt caught her eye.

"Malfoy take off your shirt," she murmured, eyes fixed on the strange bulge.

"_What?_" he blinked.

"_Take. Off. Your. Shirt_."

He smirked. "Want to see me bare chest-ed, Granger?"

Hermione glared at him for a second before jerking forward and grabbed both sides of his collar, pulling hard at them so the buttons sprayed madly around the room.

"Whoa, Granger!" he yelped trying unsuccessfully to scoot away from her intruding hands.

She ignored him, staring mouth agape at his, now, bare chest.

Hermione had to admit that Quidditch had done the boy good. His chest was layered with lean muscles, the type that only really showed when you were naked, fit for a Seeker. But the minute Hermione's mind latched onto that fact it was sidetracked by something else. His whole right side was an angry purplish-black, the bones that could only be the ribcage, sticking out under his thin skin; so pale by this point you could almost see right through it. The bulge she had seen was a particularly prominent bone sticking up almost vertically.

She gasped and jumped back, her hands flying to cover her mouth. "Malfoy," she breathed, tears stinging her eyes. "Who did this to you?"

But by now whatever resolve had kept Malfoy from screaming in her presence had evaporated. Hermione watched as the blond threw his head back and started panting gasping at what must have been serious pain as he breathed.

"Malfoy?" she stared. "Malfoy what the hell happened to you?"

But just then the bone that had been sticking out twitched as he breathed resulting in, the first, scream she had ever heard from him. Pinning him down so no more bones would move Hermione picked up her wand and cast a Numbing Charm on him, sighing in relief as his screams slowly turned to whimpers.

"Shh I need to get something ok? I need to get something to make you better," she said softly holding his face, but even as she said it she knew it was wrong. Shaking her head slightly she corrected herself. "No. I need to get Snape. I need to get Professor Snape, he'll help him," she murmured before looking up at him. "I'll be right back. I need you to relax. Can you do that Draco – Draco?" she shook his head slightly, finding that this, combined with using his first name, was the only thing that gave her his attention. "I'm going to make it better, ok?"

Wide-eyed, Malfoy nodded before closing his eyes as another wave of pain shook him. He bit his tongue and whimpered slightly, more blood pouring down his neck.

"No! No! Shh, shh," Hermione ripped her sleeve, rolled it up and put it on top of his bleeding tongue. "Don't bite, it'll cost you later. Shh, I'm right here I need Snape to make you a potion, I'll be right back. Stay calm, can you do that?"

Malfoy nodded again and with one last look deep into his eyes and coming out satisfied she pulled back off the bed, casted one more Numbing Charm and ran off to find the Professor she hated to help the boy she hated more. Hermione shook her head as she ran. _How did things get so fucked up?_

* * *

><p>Severus Snape stood in his private quarters, facing the window behind his desk, and watching his dark, transparent reflection in the double glazed window as his fingers balanced the small bottle, that he had been holding for the past two hours, carefully in front of him.<p>

_Just one sip, _his mind crooned. _Just one sip and it'll all be over,_

But as he continued to revolve the three-inch flask with his long pale fingers, he felt his resolve waver. _You _could _do it you know,_ his mind prodded. _Just drink it and relax for a while. Dumbledore will find you seemingly dead and maybe they'll do the right thing and finish you off,_

The clear liquid stirred menacingly within the cold glass. Granger and young Draco had brewed the potion. Severus had been surprised to hear that little-miss-know-it-all had gotten an E for her Drought of Living Death but as he thought this he shrugged. _Almost certainly Draco's fault,_

Severus loved his best friend's son but there was nothing he could do. The boy was a twat.

Sighing heavily Severus fingered the cork until it spun loosely. _Just one sip…_

But before he could so much as remove the small brown stub an annoyingly persistent knocking started at his door.

Growling, Severus pushed the cork back in with, perhaps too much, force and pocketed it, rushing to the door and opening it to a crack with a jerk.

"Miss Granger," he hissed, adding the usual drawl. "This is a very inopportune moment and I would thank you to leave before I take off house points," Severus made to close the door but the girl was persistent.

"Professor Snape!" she yelled, shoving her foot in the unfortunate gap in the door. "You don't understand Professor! You really need to come with me, Professor – sir you're hurting my foot – it's Malfoy sir, it's Malfoy! He's hurt! He's very hurt! I don't know what happened! I – Just found him! Please Professor! I need your help!"

But the minute he had heard who it concerned he flung open the door and was heading down the corridor, taking a quick look at his godson through her thoughts.

_Oh Draco what have you done _now_…?_

* * *

><p>Professor Snape sped ahead so fast that Hermione had to run to keep up with his long strides, let alone to lead him there. But Snape seemed to know where he was going and before too long they were at the Prefects room.<p>

"Alliance," he spat before quickly disappearing in a whip of black.

Hermione clutched her front as she walked in, fighting with all her might not to collapse immediately into the green armchair near the cauldron Malfoy had used to heal her.

Instead she stood by her dark Professor's side, watching anxiously as he bent over the panting boy.

"Fractured… broken… hazardous," Snape murmured, as he nursed, his long, pale fingers ghosting over the black shades.

Malfoy whimpered beneath him, a single stray tear escaping his closed eyes.

The Professor ignored the sound, intent on analysing only but suddenly the boy let out a screech and even he had to stop.

"Granger!" Snape barked. "Set up the cauldron. Forty five millilitres of water, tepid, five inch flame,"

Hermione did as she was told, murmuring the instructions over and over as she did.

"Now I need you to–"

But before he could tell her anything, Malfoy's breath hitched and his chest lifted off the bed, a half strangled wail escaping his lips. He stayed life that for half a second before falling back down limply, his mouth hanging and his eyes slightly opened.

There was a moment of silence before, "what was that?" Hermione choked, unable to move and scarcely able to breath.

"He is unconscious, Miss Granger," Snape said, his voice empty. "And if we don't do anything, probably about to die," he straightened and pointed at the cauldron, "I want that bubbling before I get back, stir counter clockwise until there are twenty-five bubbles and then put out the flame. The minute that's done make sure he still has a pulse. I'll be back and if that's not ready by then he _will_ die."

"But what do I do if he doesn't have a–?" but he had already reached the door, his ink black robes billowing as he disappeared behind the corner.

* * *

><p>It was almost eleven o'clock when Hermione finally sat down. Snape had brewed the potion with no extra hazards and Malfoy sat sleeping soundly under the green covers, his pale chest, the bones all either healed or healing, rising in less strangled hitches as he slept.<p>

McGonagall and Dumbledore had come shortly after the blond had fallen asleep, asking soft but urgent questions about what happened.

Hermione recounted everything exactly in the order it had gone, only stopping when the door opened again and an anxious Madam Pomfrey walked in to take a look at the sleeping boy, scowling that she should have been called sooner resulting in a short lived argument with her and Professor Snape.

An hour later all was silent in the Prefect's dorm. Blaise had not returned and soon the world turned ink black outside the big window by the bed. Hermione sat there, on the cold, sliver windowsill, her small hands clutching a large glass vial in a death grip.

Before he left, Snape had warned her of two things. The first was that Malfoy would not sleep soundly during the night but that it was important that she did not wake him or the pain would cause him to do strange things.

Hermione shuddered on the sill and drew her knees tighter to her chest.

And second that the minute Malfoy woke up she was to give him the less potent potion, which was now clutched tightly in her hands, for though the first potion was strong it was only for major injuries and would most probably overlook some of the smaller things. She was also to check him herself to make sure the potions had done their work.

Hermione's fingers were freezing up around the glass and after a few moments of staring at them she sighed and set the vial down on the green bedside table. Seeing the faint blue in the colour of her flesh, she shuddered again, picked up her cloak, which she had removed when Snape had been brewing, and drew it tightly around herself, sinking her grateful fingers into the deep pockets.

Then she felt it.

Blinking down at her left hand as she did, Hermione fingered the smooth object in her pocket before concluding it was safe to pull out.

Her fingers clumsy from the lack of blood, she slid what turned out to be a small paper cockroach, out from her left pocket, barely managing to hold it through its squealing and wriggling in protest. Eyebrows furrowed, Hermione shot a confused look at the sleeping figure before, pressing her fingers to the head and cracking it open, carefully unfolding the smooth paper.

Her brown eyes widened as she dropped the paper, open, into her lap and pressed both her hands over her mouth, her breaths coming out in shallow pants as she hyperventilated, staring at the four words that sat there.

_I'm losing my patience,_

Hermione didn't need to see the initials, she knew who it was from.

* * *

><p><em>Voila! ok i need to sleep cuz i'll be up early tomorrow to start my b-day party with my friends! we're gunna see Harry Potter! AHHHHHHHHHHHH i can't wait!<em>

_ok nighty, nighty_

_see you sooon_

R.


	15. Ch15: Papers, Enemies and Appointments

**Last time i checked i wasn't called Rowling.**

SORRY GUYS! i'm saying that a lot lately but this time i have a good reason... ish. I should have warned you in my last chapter but i started school last wednesday and i LITERALLY haven't had the time to do anything significant! I'M SORRY I REALLY AM!

right onto the next. i thank edwardsoneandonlylove (for your review and "yeah i kno i'm such a nerd i only watched it once! and you met them! jealous!") and MandyHowlOwl150 ("thank you! my b-day was great!") and all the rest of you. you guys make it all worth while!

ok here you go!

P.s with exception of next week (from this thursday to the next) i will only be able to publish/write on weekends :(((((. I'm sorry but it's all my school's fault!

ok enjoy!

* * *

><p>She stared blankly at the piece of paper.<p>

Deep down Hermione knew she was overreacting. She had received so many letters from him now. It was ridiculous that she still had that reaction. So, taking a deep breath and swatting away the stray tears of shock, Hermione picket up the small square of paper, folded it, and pocketed it, letting her head fall back gently as she tried to calm her racing heart.

She would not react like this next time. _I won't let myself,_

Hermione curled in on herself, her small frame trembling, and sniffed, whimpering slightly. _Maybe next time will be ok but now it sure, as hell, isn't,_

Hermione didn't notice she was rocking slightly until a quiet, but significant, sound of rustling fabric made her freeze. Her eyes darted over to the dormant boy automatically and she gasped when she found the bright grey orbs staring right at her intently.

"Malfoy!" she bounced off the sill, promptly losing her balance and catching herself on something, which immediately fell to the floor with a loud bang. "Shoot! I'm sorry!" nearly tripping over the small hem in the carpet, Hermione jumped forward and put the ornament back onto the little table it was on before promptly getting her foot stuck on the carpet again, resulting in her flying forward, barely catching herself on the corner of the bed.

Hermione looked up sheepishly, expecting to hear howls of laughter from him, only to see Malfoy's grey eyes looking at her blankly, the only sign that'd he'd seen her catastrophe being the small tightness in the muscles around the left corner of his pale lips.

Her eyes widening slightly, Hermione jumped up and crossed her arms behind her back, biting her lip as she peered at him. Had she woken him? Was this what Snape meant by 'strange'?

They stood in silence for a while before; with a start Hermione remembered her job. "I'm sorry did I wake you?"

"No," he murmured still staring at her.

"So… you woke up by yourself?" she asked, uncertain.

For a moment Hermione thought he wasn't going to answer her but just as she opened her mouth to ask again he said. "No,"

Hermione furrowed her brows, worried. "So I _did _wake you?"

"Yes," he blinked. "No," another blink. "I don't know," he swallowed. "Things feel weird."

Hermione cursed herself internally. If she'd known he was such a light sleeper…

She looked back at the blond who was still staring at her. He looked so… innocent. Was it possible that maybe – just maybe – this wasn't Malfoy she was looking at?

"Shouldn't you be nursing, Granger?"

Hermione rolled her eyes. _Nope, same old Malfoy all right._

"Yeah, yeah I'm coming," she muttered, turning and picking up the vial of healing potion. Circling the bed and sitting by the boy's clothed sides, she teased the lid until it spun loosely, not realising when Malfoy sat up bringing them closer. Looking up, Hermione blinked, as she saw him no more than thirty centimetres away from her, his hot breath brushing over her lips as he looked down at her.

He blinked down at her, blankly, his grey eyes, trained intently on her brown ones, sparkling slightly at the corners.

Hermione pulled off the cork completely, with a quiet _pop_, and handed it to him, keeping their eyes locked the whole time. "Snape told me to give you this when you woke up," she swallowed, deliberately ignoring the 'acting 'strange'' part.

Malfoy blinked at the blue-ish liquid for a few seconds before pressing the rim of the vial to his pale lips and drowning it hungrily, frowning at the empty glass as he finished.

"Taste nice?" Hermione inquired, taking it from him and looking down at her hands as she corked it.

She felt his eyes on her as he answered. "No – yes – not really," he murmured.

But Hermione wasn't really paying attention to what he said. Snape had been right about the stronger potion overlooking injuries. Unconsciously leaning forward, she focussed intently on the bruise on his left cheekbone and the slight crookedness of his fractured nose. _The potion should take effect any second now…_

Hermione suddenly realised how close they were and her eyes automatically darted to his. A jolt ran down her spine as she saw the grey orbs analysing, what seemed to be, every inch of her body from her head to her waist, taking in the hand she had put of his leg to steady herself.

Blushing, she pulled back and suddenly became very interested in his hands, mumbling about having to monitor the effects.

* * *

><p>Draco looked down at her, his heart beating so hard he was surprised the red organ didn't just burst right into Granger's lap.<p>

The longing had returned, with the force of a charging bull, making the girl shine in everything she did.

Everything felt so cold to his now boiling skin as a new energy possessed him. His hands clenched and unclenched at his sides, the pain in his fingers the least of his worries, as the longing doubled with every step she took in his direction. When she had sat down beside him he'd had to bite down, hard, on the inside of his cheek to muster the slimmer of resolve to stop himself doing anything he would regret when he was sane.

And then she'd leant forward and the world had all but turned to fire around them. Draco was sure that if she'd come any closer he would have melted right into her fragile, little hands, one of which had been resting on his leg.

But what had really killed him was when she had spotted him looking at her and had blushed that delicious colour that was sure to haunt him in his dreams.

The potion had been the only thing that had distracted him from her, as disgusting and vile as it was, but it had ended far too soon.

And then it all came flooding back.

He remembered the lonely Weasel twin by the tree. The thick broom handle in the redhead's big hands. The mad rage in his eyes as he shouted at him about hurting someone. 'Hurting her' he had said. _Her. _Draco remembered how he had shrieked at the top of his lungs at the pain, yelling, begging, that he was sorry, that he was so sorry, then shrieking harder as the boy's fury rose.

After what had felt like an eternity it had stopped. Draco had stayed on the floor until the redhead had gone, moaning slightly and cursing under his breath but before he could get up his world had gone black and when he'd woken up he'd been in more pain than before, stiff from the hard ground.

His nostrils flared. _That's it Draco, _the voice in his head hissed, encouragingly. _Remember who your enemy is,_

"Malf–?"

But before she could say anything he pushed his hands hard against her shoulders, smirking as she fell back onto the silver carpet.

* * *

><p>Hermione saw the slight flash in his eyes just milliseconds before his big hands made contact with her shoulders. She felt the horrible lurch in her stomach as she felt backwards off the bed and collided painfully with the floor. Glaring, she looked up at Malfoy and scowled at the horrible smirk that had replaced the innocent look from before. It was evident that he had been messing with her.<p>

"What was that for you little–"

"Stay away from me!" he hissed.

Hermione jumped up, rubbing her lower back as she did, and scowled harder. "Instead of being _grateful!_"

"_Grateful?_" he scoffed. "It's your stupid fault I'm in this mess!"

"What the hell are you taking–?" Hermione stepped toward him.

"Stay. Away." He warned, flinging his legs out of the covers to stand in front of her. "Get out."

"Wha–?"

"Get your filthy little self out of my pristine room."

Hermione found it useless to remind him that the room actually belonged to Blaise Zabini. "What the hell is your problem!"

"You are. And because of that I became Weasel's," he grabbed her by the shoulder and turned her towards the door.

"Get – your – hands – _off _– me!" Hermione wrestled against his strong grip as he forced her towards the door. With one final smack at his wrist he was thrown off long enough for her to stand her ground. "What do you mean 'Weasel'? Which Weasel – Weasley?"

Malfoy chuckled bitterly. "Your little lover from the Room Of Requirement, that's who,"

Hermione blinked. "_George _did this?" she choked. "Bu-but how?"

Malfoy didn't answer. Instead he shoved his hand pointedly into his trouser pocket and chucked its contents at her with an angry flick of his wrist before folding his arms over his bare chest.

Hermione looked down at, what turned out to be, a small square of parchment creased heavily down the middle, giving the impression that it had been folded and unfolded many times.

Confused she pulled the note closer to her face and read the words.

_The tree by the Greenhouse – alone –_

_7; 30(pm)_

_Hermione_

Hermione looked up at him. "Bu-wha-?" she gaped at him, then down at the letter, then back. "I… _I didn't send this,_"

"_Well done, Granger,_" he snarled. "Smartest witch of our age and the first thing you conclude is that you _didn't write it!_" he clapped his hands in front of his face. "_Genius,_"

Hermione ground her teeth. "No _need_ to be sarcastic," she spoke slowly.

"Oh there is _every_ need to be sarcastic here, Granger," his voice was icy as he laughed again.

"You are such a–!"

"Leave,"

Hermione blinked. "_What?_"

"_Leave!_" he snarled. "Go cuddle with your blood traitor some more – oh! And for future notice – my heart is slightly further to the left, Weasel might want to get his aiming checked,"

"I – you – you're – you're lying!" she yelled.

Malfoy ground his teeth. "_Get. Out._" He grabbed her arm in a death grip. "_Now._"

"Hey – what? – _Ow!_" she yelped, fighting feebly against his insistent force. "Let go of me – oh _fine!_" she swung the back of her wrist against his arm, hard, successfully throwing off his grip. "Fine! I'll go!" she spat before grabbing the handle of her bag and heading for the door, the red material dragging across the floor behind her. "But if Snape gets on my arse about not checking you, you are _so _dead!"

And with that she disappeared.

* * *

><p><strong>Earlier that night<strong>

The figure leaned casually against the cold bark by the greenhouse, invisible to any straying eyes. He smiled and ran a hand through his freshly washed hair.

Everything was in check.

Sure there were still some minor problems with his plan, the girl was proving slow in giving him what he pleased but he _had _been quite loose with her so it wasn't a surprise. But he would sort that out. He had the perfect target. His master would be proud.

He grinned and looked over at the seemingly empty clearing, pulling back the sleeve of his cloak to see the time. 7; 40.

His master had foreseen this and had told him to be there earlier for his _appointment_ but the figure saw no need to hurry. _Besides, it's always good to be fashionably late._

Smirking like there was no tomorrow, he sent another look into the clearing and saw that the timing was magnificently right before pushing down the material of his robe and walking forward to meet his 'date'.

* * *

><p><em>well there you go. sorry! <em>

_ok see you soon!_

_byeeeee_

R.


	16. Ch16: Deadlines, Situations and Excuses

**yeh yeh you know it**

hey guys - sorry this is slightly off the weekend-mark but in addition to being busy this chapter has been especially difficult to write. i don't entirely like this chapter and i know! i know! the last of T.S.P's requests has been hovering there for AGES (and so has the bet!) but don't worry it should be over in the next one i'm just trying to round everything off as nicely as possible.

ok off you scurry now! thanks to all the reviewers! i love you alll ! glad that i'm keeping you on edge!

* * *

><p>The second the portrait whole moved Hermione shoved through, hurting her arm slightly as she squeezed passed the too-tight space, frantic to get away from the on coming footsteps.<p>

The Fat Lady yawned loudly behind her.

She hurried through the common room, heading only for the stairs when a startled voice made her stop.

"Hermione?"

Hermione bit her lip, debating whether she should turn or just walk on but as time ticked by she sighed quietly and turned. George was slung comfortably over the squidgy armchair by the fire, his flame like hair, much like the blaze behind him, ruffled and untidy. He must have fallen asleep there.

"Hey George," Hermione said weakly. She had meant to speak to the Weasley twin in the morning, feeling more than willing to postpone their talk for several days, and now felt her stomach churn at the sight of him. Hermione knew she wouldn't have many other opportunities to speak to him like this one.

George's ginger eyebrows furrowed "what were you doing out so late?"

Hermione bit her lip again, letting her eyes stray to the floor. Should she lie? Should she avoid the question? "Erm…" she gulped. "I erm…" Hermione squeezed her eyes shut and sighed.

"Wass on yeh mind?" George's voice was muffled by another yawn but there was a hint of curiosity in it.

"No it's just–" but just as she opened her mouth a giant black object hit her right across the face and she toppled over, landing with a low thud on the crimson carpet. Loud, screeching squawks filled the room instantly and Hermione had to resist the urge to put her hands over her ears.

"Whoa what the hell!" George yelped from the sofa, jumping up and darting forward. "Shoo! Shoo!"

Something light landed on her legs followed by the sound of the window slamming shut.

Hermione looked up just in time to see a great black bird screeching angrily at the window before disappearing into the darkness.

George came over to her and helped her up, picking up the letter by her feet that the bird had evidently brought in.

"Here," he handed the old piece of parchment to her. "Listen 'Mi' I have to wake up early tomorrow for the Skrewts' so we'll talk some other time ok?"

Hermione bit her lip. "Ok," she murmured reluctantly, watching his back as he went up to the boy's dorm.

_Tomorrow then, _she thought before looking back down at the letter and fighting down the fear. She knew what it was and this time it would not get to her.

Then she opened the letter.

In it was a deadline.

* * *

><p>Although she wanted to, Hermione wasn't able to talk to George for more than a few seconds after that, let alone get him aside for a serious conversation. –<p>

"Hey George, I've been meaning to–"

"Sorry 'Mi' the 'firs' years' need the Flobberworms milked,"

–

"George! Wait! Can I have a–?"

"Oh hey, Hermione. Sorry I can't; need to go to the library to look up Thestrals'. Hagrid's lost one of the babies, and neither of us have a clue how to find it. Honestly! Hagrid should be more careful. It would be better for him too. Poor lad's been crying all morning," –

Hermione was quickly becoming frustrated with the twin and to top it all off Ron was becoming unbearable. –

"What the hell is your problem, Ron!" she'd hissed when, on the way back to the common room, he'd bumped her shoulder.

"Don't worry about it," he spat, flinging his arm around Lavender, who had promptly turned a beetroot red, and scowling deeply, "_Hermione,_"

With Ron scowling, Harry trying not to take sides, George darting off and the deadline stressing even Neville away Hermione ended up spending most part of the rest of the week alone with her books. Even Malfoy wasn't to be seen.

Hermione huffed angrily as she stormed through the corridors. She still needed to set dates with the white git and he was proving difficult to get a hold of. He never answered her owl-sent notes (though, to be honest, after what happened, Hermione didn't expect any better), ignored her in the few classes they had together and was now sending her evil looks. Honestly! They were supposed to do this project, _together!_

She'd had enough.

Shoving past an innocent first year, who whimpered and ran away in the opposite direction, Hermione rounded the corner, spotted the two heads outside the Great Hall and ran towards them, grabbing tuffs of each boy's hair and dragging them to the empty Charms room.

"Whoa, what the–?" said Ron.

"Ouch _who_–?" said Harry.

"_Hermione?_" they both finished.

Hermione slammed the door shut and turned to them, putting her hands on her hips and scowling in a way that would make Professor McGonagall proud.

"Hermione what is this ab–?"

"Why are you ignoring me?" she snapped, deciding on the spot to go straight to the point.

There was a moment of silence before –

"Like you don't know," Ron muttered under his breath, fiddling with a quill on the front desk.

"And what is _that_ supposed to mean?" she growled, glaring at Harry who suddenly became very interested with he side of his shoe.

"Listen 'Mi'," Ron snarled, "we've got more important things to do than watch you put up a tantrum. Come on Harry–" he took a step towards he door.

"You're not leaving until you tell me why you're acting like such a git!" she crossed her arms and shifted the position of her feet "and I am _not _putting up a tantrum," she said, indignantly. "I just don't _appreciate_ being _ignored,_"

"And we don't _appreciate _people _hiding _stuff from us," Ron snapped.

Hermione blinked. "What on earth–?"

"We _saw _it 'Mi'!" he yelled. "We _saw_ you throw away that letter by the fire! We _saw_ that you were bleeding! There's no use hiding it," he added bitterly.

Hermione's eyes had widened considerably. "You–?" she choked, "were – when – _how –_?" should she tell them? What would they say? Would they call for Professor Dumbledore?

But just as she opened her mouth to say it, to tell them what happened, a cold voice in the back of her head hissed, "he sees your every move… are you sure you want to risk it, risk _them_, Mudblood?"

"We were under the cloak 'Mi! We saw you in your _nightgown,_" he snarled the word as if it were a great offence, "_covered in blood_ and chuck a letter into the fire!"

Hermione's mouth snapped shut, tight, and she gulped, searching frantically for an excuse. "I…" she croaked. "I…"

Ron ignored that. "If you don't trust us how do you expect us to trust you?"

Hermione looked down at her hands. "I trust you," she mumbled.

"Well it doesn't look like it, 'Mione!" Ron exclaimed. "If it were any other situation," he sighed, "I wouldn't ask but," he rubbed the back of his neck, "'Mione you were bleeding!"

Hermione didn't know what to say so stayed silent, her eyes still strained on her interlocked fingers.

There was a minute in which the only sound was the quiet echo of conversation from the Great Hall before Ron spoke again. "Just," he murmured, "is there anything you want to tell us?"

The brunette bit her lip behind the curtain of hair that had now wrapped around her head. She thought about the threats, the strange requests, the aggressive Hawk and of Malfoy. Thought of George, of how he'd beaten him to near death, thought of the shadow chasing her in the Library and of the fresh deadline on her shoulders.

Hermione thought about all of that and finally, after a good half minute of debating, lifted her head to look at her best friends, the friends with whom she knew she could confide anything.

"No Ron," she whispered. "There's nothing I want to tell you,"

* * *

><p><em>Sorry! i know it's short and there isn't much in it but like i said it wasn't the easiest thing to write. <em>

_ Oh and btw have a look at the story Masquerade (sorry if i spelt that wrong) it's really awesome! i can't believe i didn't recomend it earlier! _

_ok i gorra go (battery's about to die!)! seeeee you!_

R.


	17. Ch17: Tailing, Slaps and Boxers

**No you tw*t! Of course i don't own harry potter!**

OMFG! Two weeks it's been! TWO WEEKS! i'm so sorry it's ridiculous! i have no excuse what so ever! i'm just being killed by my school! it's murder! MURDER I TELL YOU!

on the positive side i made meatballs on monday!

anyway my main point is that i'm am really sorry for my crappy updates. you guys have been so supportive and i keep missing deadlines!

i guess it's best not to set deadlines then... yeh i'll do that - NO MORE DEADLINES PEOPLE! i will still write as much as i can but sometimes it's just the matter of publishing it.

i won't give up on this story i promise but you're just going to have to put up with my late-ness.

ok now i worked hard on this and AGAIN i'm sorry but the whole 'torture chair' thing IS GOING TO BE RESOLVED just i didn't manage it in this one. hopefully in the next ok?

and the bet is nearly over people calm down! i know what i want to do (as in i know how things are going to progress) it's just about putting it on paper (or pc rather) don't worry it's cummin.

alright off you pop!

* * *

><p>"What the hell is <em>wrong<em> with her?" Ron growled as he and Harry rounded the corner to the Great Hall.

"I don't know Ron, but something's up," Harry said softly, taking a right instead of following to the doors.

"You don't think it's about Malfoy, right?" asked Ron, right on his heels, "I mean you _have _been a little obsessive about him recently,"

Harry scowled at his friend. "I am _not _obsessive about him! And no," he said firmly, "Malfoy's a Death Eater – Hermione would never do anything like that," – they rounded another corner – "Never,"

There was a long pause.

"But you can't know for sure he's a–"

Harry sighed. "How many times do I have to tell you, Ron? I _can _be sure – I _am_ sure since I _heard _him on the _train!_"

"Alright, alright!" Ron said quietly, putting his hands above his head in a gesture of surrender.

There was silence for a while.

"Erm Harry?" Ron said tentatively.

Harry sighed again. "_What_ Ron?"

"Er…" he rubbed the back of his neck and grimaced. "Where exactly are we going?"

Harry sent him a strange look. "To tail Malfoy, naturally. Where else?"

Ron bit his lip. "Naturally," he murmured, "where else?"

* * *

><p>"George!"<p>

The twin spun round automatically to the sound of his name but regretted it immediately when a small, but feisty, hand whipped through the air and hit him hard across the face.

George yelped and jumped back, clapping a hand over his stinging cheek, ready to scowl at his attacker but his face immediately fell into one of surprise when he saw a certain bushy haired girl in front of him.

"Hermione!" he yelped. "What? – Why?" he stammered, "_ow!_"

"Sorry," she smiled sheepishly up at him, "I've been trying to get your attention all week!"

George chuckled down at her, feeling any anger evaporate. "So you decided to slap me to gain it?"

Hermione blushed and nodded.

"Well since you went to such measures," he grinned, "what is it you wanted my attention for? I'm sure I can spare a few minutes,"

Suddenly Hermione stopped smiling and bit her lip, telling George immediately that, despite the previous jokey mood, this was serious.

"George I–" she cut off looking around, "can we go somewhere private?"

George's eyebrows furrowed at her request but he complied, nodding and following her to the isolated Gryffindor common room.

"What is it 'Mi'?"

The girl looked like she didn't know where to start. Then she sighed and George really got worried.

"George why did you beat up Malfoy?" she murmured so quietly it was hard to say if he'd heard her right.

George blinked, startled. How did she know? He felt his face contort with anger. "I'm gunna kill'im," he snarled.

"What?" it was Hermione's turn to be startled.

"Malfoy!" he hissed, "he went whining of to you the coward! Doesn't have an inch of back-bone!"

George seemed so angry it scared her. "No George!" she yelped grabbing his arm, "Malfoy didn't tell me – I found him – I went up to see him about the – our projects and I just found him there George! Bleeding! To death George!"

The redhead was shocked to see her choke back a sob.

"Hermione I–"

"And I was going to have to watch it! I would have had to stand there and watch the stupid little git _die!_" Hermione felt like screaming but everything she'd said had only come out in a husky whisper. The reality of the situation had come crashing down on her as she'd spoken and now all she could do was choke under the weight. He could have died. Right there. Right in front of her – he could have closed those smoldering grey eyes and never reopened them. It was all too much. Even for the girl that hated him.

"Hermione I," George sighed. "Hermione I _did_ – I'm not denying it but – you've got to believe me I – I didn't mean–"

But Hermione's head had just snapped up to look at him. "You _did_," she breathed, "George?" she choked stepping back.

"Hermione–!"

But Hermione was shaking her head now, silent tears rolling down her cheek. No. He couldn't have done this. Not even to a slimy git like Malfoy. Not George. Not the Weasley's George. This was absurd. This was attempted _murder _here.

Maybe if Fred were with him – for some reason – maybe she could understand – but not George. The idea seemed absurd just thinking about it. It seemed sick.

"Hermione don't–!"

But before he could finish she had turned on her heel and sprinted out the room, running so fast that the portrait hole had barely opened a foot before she flew through it, resulting in her bashing her right shoulder on the frame with such force that she spun three times in mid air before colliding with the cold floor. Hermione huffed stiffly, the clash having winded her, before pushing up limply off the floor.

"Are you quite alright, there, Hermione?" the slightly lustrous form of Nearly Headless Nick stood over her twitching form. "You took quiet a fall there, dear girl,"

"I'm fine thanks Nick," she said, breathlessly before circling him and sprinting down the corridor.

"But my dear!" Nick called after her, but she was gone before he finished.

* * *

><p>The ghost stared after the girl as she sprinted head long down the tight walls. "It's past your curfew," Nick finished under his breath before turning his ghostly body, stiffly as to not disturb his partly severed head, and proceeding down the corridor to find The Bloody Barron.<p>

* * *

><p>Hermione wasn't sure where she was going and so was surprised to find herself outside the familiar Prefect Room portrait.<p>

"Alliance," she said tentatively, cursing under her breath when an elegant, white peacock – the new guarding portrait Dumbledore had installed – shook its pretty albino head at her and leaned back to peck at the non-existent dirt in her long tail feathers'.

"C'mon, _please!_" Hermione whined, stamping her foot in frustration as the bird adjusted itself elegantly on its perch but did not let her in.

"Listen, you, I've been here before I just need to–"

"Is talking to birds past curfew normal Mudblood behavior, then?" a cold voice drawled from behind her.

Hermione jumped and spun round and found herself facing who she'd come for in the first place.

"Zabini!" she sighed in relief.

"I wouldn't know you see," the boy continued, sighing in mock exasperation, "you're such dirty creatures, you've never really fascinated me,"

Hermione immediately felt her blood boil. "I was just coming to find you," she spat through gritted teeth.

She was rewarded with a frustrating silence.

Sighing, she lifted her fingers to her forehead and rubber her temples, sighing. "Alright – listen Zabini!" she growled, "where is Malfoy – that's all I want from you. Where is Malfoy?"

Zabini raised an eyebrow, his dark eyes dragging lazily over her from top to bottom. "That's quite a demanding tone you've got there, Granger,"

"_Please_ Zabini," she said slowly, so frustrated she could have burst into tears right there, barely restraining herself on the fact that he'd called her Granger instead of Mudblood, indicating process. "No smart comments just – where is Malfoy?"

Zabini let himself fall back against the pillar behind him, folding his arms, casually, over his chest. "Who's asking?"

"Zabini!"

"Granger." he countered.

Hermione let herself fall back against the portrait, her shoulders sagging in exasperation. "Please don't make this difficult," she begged.

"Please stop being an insufferable know-it-all," he countered, lazily examining his fingernails.

"_Fine!_" she huffed, pushing herself off the wall and storming past him. Zabini raised his eyebrows as he picked at his nails. "I'll go find him myself!"

Hermione had just walked past him when he made her stop with what he said next.

"He's probably in the Slytherin dungeons," Zabini said casually, wiping his nails on the collar of his robes.

"The Slytherin dungeons," she sighed over her shoulder, "and would you, by any chance, be able to fetch him from the Slytherin dungeons?"

Zabini gave it a dramatic pause; "I could get you there," he shrugged, nonchalantly, "let's say there was a secret passageway leading conveniently to his dorm – for a price – I could – in theory – get you there,'

Hermione chuckled bitterly under her breath. "A price," she muttered, "of course there _had_ to be a price – one can't just _offer_ help for free just out of pure _kindness, _somebody must owe them something,"

"Talking to oneself isn't a good sign you know, Mudblood," Zabini taunted, twirling a loose strand on his robe, innocently. "Better hurry with your decision though," he looked around in mock excitement and smiled at her, "someone's coming!" he whispered.

And indeed someone _was_ coming the unmistakable drawl of Severus Snape sounding just down the hall. Hermione started to run but froze when she heard other footsteps from the other way out as well. She was trapped.

Hermione stiffened but just as quickly as the panic formed it turned to rage. This was all Zabini's fault!

_No deal! No deal! No deal! No deal!_

"Alright Zabini!" she hissed, spinning round to face him, her hand up and pointing accusingly at his, now smug-expression-ed, face. "_Alright!_ You get me out of this and get me to Malfoy and you'll get your _price!_"

Zabini grinned and cupped a hand to his ear. "You'll do what sorry? What will you do to pay me back?"

The voices, now more than one, were getting louder and Hermione was back to panic. "Anything!" she whined in a hushed voice, practically begging, "I'll do anything, Zabini, just – please!"

The boy waggled an eyebrow dangerously as the voices grew louder. "Anything?" he whispered, cheekily.

But all Hermione could do was nod now as the voices became too loud to speak normally.

Grinning from ear-to-ear, Zabini stepped backwards towards the peacock, beckoning her to follow him. He muttered something under his breath and the portrait swung open for them both to go in.

Hermione caught a glimpse of Professor Snape round the corner and nearly bump straight into an oncoming Prefect before the portrait sealed the entry and they were both clear.

"Well, well Mudblood," Zabini drawled behind her, "locked up in a room with a Pureblood wizard – and a sexy one too, may I add,"

Hermione ground her jaw and spun round to glare at him.

He smirked, "must be the best day of your life,"

Keeping her eyes trained on his she stepped closer to him until their chests were nearly touching. He was so much taller than her but by the way she held herself you would have thought she was towering over him. "Take me to Malfoy or I _will_ hex you,"

Zabini gave a small smile, his eyes twinkling and his eyebrow gently raised. "You're feisty," he stated in a hushed – no doubt in his opinion – seducing tone. He reached forward slowly and wrapped his long dark fingers around her arm just above her elbow, and then, to her surprise – and horror – he leant in to put his lips by her ear. "I like that,"

"Oh _ha,_ _ha_, Zabini!" she said angrily shoving him off with a particularly hard blow to his shoulders.

The boy came off her chuckling. "Strong too!" he came back forward, this time though, a small smile creased his cheeks as he did. "That's good – I like my girls' dominant," he grinned.

"Back off, Zabini!" she snarled. "Where did all the lazy 'I don't give a fuck' façade go?" she spat, "because, at this stage, I honestly think I preferred it,"

This seemed to piss him off slightly and Hermione saw his dark irises harden distinctively. "Oh it's still there, Granger," he said through gritted teeth.

"Good! Now get it out and _take me to Malfoy!_"

Zabini's expression hardened further and Hermione knew she had crossed some sort of line. His fingers wrapped around her arm again though none too gently this time and, with a lot of wailing and shouting on her part, dragged her up the four steps, through the room with the snake on it, around the bed and to the wall beside the cauldrons.

The fingers, that weren't gripping her, lifted suddenly to tap a spot on the wall and immediately it slit down the side and swung inwards.

Before Hermione could do anything else, the hand holding her jerked violently and the world darkened around her as she was thrown in the passageway, the only light coming from the wrist-to-elbow sized gap in the wall where Zabini was peering at her from.

"This passage leads straight to his dorm," he snarled, "find him yourself. And once you're done I suggest you find another way out because if I so much as see _one strand_ of your filthy bird's nest of a hairdo I will curse and hex so much your own mother wouldn't recognize you if you wore a name card with 'Hermione Mudblood Granger' written on it in _bold!_"

The word 'Mudblood' made her blood boil hotter than lava but the threat was spoken with such venom Hermione was sure he wasn't bluffing so decided to keep her tongue.

"_Are we clear?_" Zabini hissed.

Biting her tongue, so hard she felt the tang of metal flow in her mouth, Hermione nodded stiffly.

"Alright – good evening to you, Mudblood, and thank you for stopping by,"

And before she could say anything the wall slammed firmly shut, leaving her alone in almost pitch black.

Hermione grumbled and stuffed her hands in her robes, plucking out the thin stretch of wood and muttering a quick, '_Lumos_'.

She then held up her wand to reveal a long, snake-like passage in front of her. Even with the wand as high as it would go she still couldn't see the end.

Oh this was going to be a long walk.

* * *

><p>Draco stood in front of his thin, wall length mirror in just his Slytherin slacks, the long pale fingers of his left hand, for the ones on his right were still broken, prodding at the persistent shade of his would-be black eye.<p>

The broken fingers had been a problem in lessons, resulting in him having to scribble behind with his left hand, but Draco couldn't bring himself to go to the Hospital Wing.

Almost as if going there would admit that it had actually happened. That the Weasel had beaten him.

And because of his inability to perform spells with his left hand that inevitably left him with unhealed wounds. Luckily, Snape hadn't spotted any of these otherwise he would be in to the neck and not just with the ex-Potions Professor.

He'd received endless letters and notes from the little Gryffindor and as much as he'd wanted to see her to inflict more guilt, the incident with the Weasel had left him; it pained him to even think it, paranoid.

Growling softly, he looked around, his eyes focusing on wall by the fire. Blaise hadn't returned yet. What the hell was he doing at that time of night?

Usually he'd wait for his friend to get back before changing, in case the Slytherin wanted to do something that was fun enough to stay up the extra hours.

But even as he thought this, the blonde's eyes began to droop.

_Oh screw Blaise and his evening plans; he never has respect for mine anyway._

Draco sighed again and hooked his thumbs, the only functioning fingers that the hands shared, in his school slacks, wriggling until he was free of them before straightening up and staring at the reflection of himself in just his black boxers.

Ironically, they had been a gift from Severus. _I swear that man's an emo,_ he mused, lazily, working the muggle term in his head and snickering slightly at the image of his Professor and godfather wearing skull necklaces and eyeliner. _I don't know how he stands the heat. He'd probably melt in the des–_

His thoughts were cut short as a huge yawn rippled its way up his throat. Draco didn't bother to stifle it, being alone, and proceeded to sluggishly making his way over to his bed.

Automatically, he reached forward with his right hand for the covers and was rewarded with a sharp pang of pain that made him yelp quietly. Sighing, Draco drew his wounded arm up to his chest, almost as if to protect it from the cool air, and slumped into bed, pausing only to hook his boxers off, not caring in the slightest if Blaise would come across them when he returned, before halting his movements completely.

Draco marveled for the shortest amount of time at the feel of the material on his bare skin before sleep claimed him and his world went black.

* * *

><p><em>was it difficult to write? yes hell it was! will i try to make the next updates more frequent? yes hell i will! why is Draco Malfoy naked in the last bit of this chapter? because... aw why do i always get the hard one!<em>

_i expect it would come as a slight shock for Hermione to walk in and find that... i personally would climb straight in bed with him but thass jus me :)_

_alright transformers is on so... adios !_

_bye bye kitties_

R.


	18. Ch18: Nox, Winnings and Light Bulbs

**not my stuff - haven't i made that clear?**

Do you guys recall Chapter 10 where I said that I didn't want to extend the bet too far cuz the consequences need to come into play? Well here we are. 8 chapters later and I still haven't gotten Hermione to summon a chair. Doncha luv me?

Thnx to Just Your Above Average Malfoy ("yeh I did do that bit right, right? I mean it's not too unrealistic for mood swings right?") and to edwardsoneandonlylove ("yeh and like our wise friend Berta from Two and a Half Men once said; 'I wonder what his sweat tastes like?'")

Hmm wouldn't you love to snuggle the Malfoy heir? Yum yum.

Alright off you go kidoes… who are… probably older than me… and I hope you like this one – it should speed things up… hopefully

Alright off you go!

* * *

><p>Hermione saw the slit of light of an upcoming door.<p>

"Nox," she panted weakly, deciding it was best not to come within reach of a probably wary Draco Malfoy with the light-shining-through-a-solid-wall approach.

Hermione let herself fall against the cold stone for a second before proceeding. She'd spent a whole hour in that damn path. She was soaked to the skin in sweat and to make things worst she had arrived at Malfoy's without her cloak to cover up the dark patches her sweat left.

Her throat was soar from panting and she was pretty sure that her hair would ensure some taunting from the Slytherin on the other side of the wall.

Starting to feel a little claustrophobic, Hermione stumbled to her feet, using the wall for leverage, and made her way to the door-wall only to stop and hesitate when she reached it.

Should she just… _push_ it? Surely you don't just… _push_ the door to a secret passageway?

Frowning, Hermione lifted her hands and, hesitating slightly beforehand, pushed the tips of her fingers against the smooth stones, unable to stop herself recoiling slightly at the grime that smudged her skin.

And unbelievably! The wall moved!

Hermione watched, bewildered, as the slit of light grew wider and the familiar green she'd seen in the Prefect's room came into focus around the wall.

The light was off and the moon shone brightly from the window, leaving a blanket of pearly gleam over everything in the room.

For a good minute, Hermione let her eyes wonder, taking in the grumbling fire, the squidgy armchair by it, the silvery desk by the work cauldrons…

The sound of rustling fabric pulled her attention back to the bed. It was green (she rolled her eyes), the emerald curtains drawn tightly around it.

Hermione looked down and sighed before stepping over the small rock that signaled the entrance only to stop, foot half a meter off the floor, when a quiet whine cut the evening air.

Images suddenly flashed behind her eyes. Malfoy hurt. Malfoy bleeding on his bed. Somebody coming to find Malfoy in the dungeons. George with a bloodied baseball bat…

She shuddered hard and made her way over to the bed. What if he was hurt? It was Wednesday they needed to get the projects done as soon as possible.

_Stop thinking about homework!_ Her inner voice hissed. _What the hell is wrong with you? He could be dying again!_

Swallowing hard, Hermione walked slowly forward and lifted her hand to grasp the curtain.

What if he _was_ dying? Would she be able to summon a teacher? The fastest way would be by Patronus but… would she be able to cast one?

Another whine cut through the silence and Hermione's hand jerked into a fist around the green material. _Ok calm down! The last thing you need to do is panic–!_

"Granger," Malfoy's voice grumbled on the other side of the curtain.

Hermione blinked, but, before she could think about what she was doing, her hand had moved without her permission and the curtains where out of her way.

* * *

><p>Ninety nine percent of the time, Draco knew when he was sleeping. Maybe on occasion he would delve too deeply into a good dream and forget about everything else. Those were the ones he classified as 'good nights'.<p>

Tonight was a good night.

Unfortunately for him, though, a good night didn't always consist of a good dream.

He was running, panting with the effort of getting away. His white button-down shirt was seeped with sweat, darkening in blotches all over him and his blond head kept whipping round to look behind him.

Red bolts of light where flying past him in blurred flashes and the bark of incantation was bouncing off the unseen walls straight from the thin lips of the man behind him. His father.

"_Crucio!_" Lucius snarled, pure fury in his voice, as another red beam shot past the younger Malfoy.

During his childhood with this man, Draco had gotten very used to dodging his father's curses, but, like the story line of a muggle horror movie, logic seem to abandon itself just when he needed it and words seemed to fly faster than usual.

The curse hit Draco's right arm, causing his to flip sideways into a previous-non-existing-corner and breaking the spell almost immediately.

But just as he rounded it, he bashed right into someone.

"Malfoy you lying bastard! How dare you accuse George!" Granger snarled up at him, her index finger pointing at his face.

"Granger!" Draco hissed at her, the sound coming out choked through his pants. "Now is _not_ the time!"

But the brunette ignored him shoving forward so that he was almost in the light of the street he had been running in again. "No, no, _no_!" she stomped her foot in a very non-Granger-ly fashion. "We have to talk _right now_ because I don't trust you about George!"

Lucius's voice was close now and Draco knew he was just around the corner from a possible murder scene. "_Fuck Granger!_ You don't understand!" the blond grabbed her shoulders and shook her, his eyes widening in panic. There was no saying what his father would do to her if he found her. "We have to _move!_ _Now_–!"

But it was too late. Just then Lucius Malfoy rounded the corner, wand in hand, eyes glittering madly.

Draco tried to move. He tried to use his grip on the girl's shoulders to throw them sideways and forwards, away from his crazed father. From the father that had worn down on him for as long as he could remember with his broad shoulders and unforgiving eyes. But it was all useless in a dream.

"_Avada Kedavra!_" Lucius bellowed, but as much as Draco wanted the curse to hit him and not the innocent girl beside him, the green light seemed to ghost through him and straight to the center of her chest.

And so the curse hit her.

And Hermione screamed.

Draco's eyes snapped open as the scream stabbed his eardrums.

Ninety nine percent of the time, Draco knew when he was sleeping. And this sure as hell wasn't a dream.

"_Holy shit!_" a voice shrieked.

Draco's head snapped up to see his curtains partly drawn and a dark-ish figure shifting in the night. With a split second thought, the lighting charm was activated and all came into view. "_Granger?_" he yelped.

The girl stumbled back, her small, delicate hands cupped tightly over her mouth in shock and her eyes wide.

Draco flashed a look down at himself and felt his own eyes widening at the sight of his naked form, barely concealed by the emerald sheets. "Fuck!" he shouted, snatching his covers up over his waist.

"I'm sorry!" the girl shouted. "I'm sorry – shit – I just wanted to find you! I didn't know you'd be like – like _that!_ It's just – you've been ignoring my notes–!"

"I think that's understandable!" Draco yelled.

"Yes, yes I know!" she whined, her back half turned to him. "I – just – no-one's been around and I've been fed up and– oh shit!"

Draco had just stood up to reach for his boxers when Granger had turned to half face-him. "GRANGER!" he yelled as she swore and clapped her hands over her eyes. "Turn. The fuck. _Around!_"

"_Sorry! Sorry! Sorry, sorry, sorry!_" she yelped. "I'm really, really sorry!"

"Why the fuck are you in my room God damn it!" the blond snarled, snatching up his jeans and forcing them up his thighs.

"We need to set some dates Malfoy, the homework is building up and our Professors made it clear that it was a group project–"

"And this couldn't wait till _morning? _You're lucky I didn't _hex _you! You can turn around now," he reached out with his left hand to draw the curtains of his bed in an attempt to cover up the knot of sheets.

Granger obeyed, spinning round to look at him, her bottom lip trapped between her teeth. "Yeah I guess but – but there's also something else," she murmured, biting her lips and looking down at her feet.

Draco tilted his head down slightly trying to catch her expression. His anger was rapidly melting into severe annoyance in the presence of boxers. "What?"

"I–I," she sighed and closed her eyes. "I spoke to George,"

Draco froze at the statement, his anger resurfacing. "So you're saying," he spat through gritted teeth, trying to swallow his anger. "That you _believe_me now?"

"I–"

"Now that _he _said it you believe me?"

The girl sighed again. "I–I," she ground her teeth.

"Get out," he spat.

Granger's eyebrows furrowed as her expression grew angry. "No," she said firmly her chin raising a notch.

"I said get out," Draco snarled.

Granger took a step forward. "And I said no,"

The blond glared at her for a good few minutes before sighing and pinching the bridge of his nose. "Alright," he forced through gritted teeth, his eyes squeezing shut, "what do you want?"

"I want to set some dates for the homework," she stated calmly.

"Tomorrow, next?"

"All of it?"

"Yes, _next?_"

"Um…"

Draco squinted through one eye at her, managing to glare even through his lashes. But when he saw her eyeing something curiously he couldn't help himself. "What are you looking at?" he grumbled.

Granger's thinly pressed lips parted slightly. Draco watched as the blood returned and her lips grew full again. He licked his lips nervously. "Your fingers are still broken," she said quietly.

Draco blinked and pulled his hand away from his nose, wincing at the sight of his purple fingers. He stared at them, twitching the digits in the light. "Yes," he said sharply, though not as sharply as he'd intended to.

Granger's brows furrowed. "And your eye," her hand reached up to swipe the bruised area on his cheekbone.

For a second Draco just stared before sneering and jerking his head away. "Yes _and?_" he hissed.

The brunette dropped her hand, "but why didn't you get them fixed?"

Draco sneered again and took a step back. "Because I didn't want to!" he spat, "what's'it to you?"

Granger scowled, "just worrying that's all,"

"Yeah well I don't want your worry!" he snarled. "Your only worried because it's Weasel's neck on the line!" Draco froze as his words rung in his head.

And a light bulb shone above his head.

"Say it," he blurted, suddenly, cutting off whatever protest she was putting up.

Granger blinked. "What?"

_Of course, why didn't I think of this before?_ "Say it," he repeated, still dazed at his own ignorance. "Call me a ferret,"

The brunette's eyebrows arched up and her mouth opened slightly. "Look whatever _scheme _you have going through your head right now–"

"Say it," Draco demanded but he looked more amused than anything.

"You can't just–"

"Say it or I tell Snape about the Weasel,"

Granger seemed to freeze and unfreeze in a fifth of a second. "Bu-but–?"

"Or I'll get your precious _George_ in trouble," he pressed, "hell, with a few tweaks – who knows! – I could even land him in Azkaban,"

Granger gaped. "Wha-uh-wha – no!" she yelled suddenly, "you can't do that! What! No! You – you," but she trailed off, looking desperately in his grey eyes. "Malfoy," she begged

Draco didn't skip a beat. He grinned. "Granger?"

"Bu-but that's blackmail!"

But he only grinned wider. "Yes,"

Granger looked speechless.

"And so the almighty Draco Malfoy managed to outsmart the Granger _and_ get her to shut up," he murmured, grinning wickedly down at her. He'd done it. He'd won. "Somebody pinch me,"

Suddenly the girl's eyes flickered up to him but this time they burned with anger.

_And now to reap the reward._

"You are such a," she advanced on him, "stupid, pigheaded, insolent, inconsiderate, unreliable," Draco felt the back of his legs hit the mattress, "evil, blackmailing, insignificant, big headed–!"

"Are we ever going to reach the end of his sentence Granger?" the blond murmured, grinning, catching her wrists as she raised her fists to hit him.

Granger glared at him before yanking her hands back and storming toward the door, not seeming to care that a house full of Slytherins' was on the other side.

But Draco hadn't finished his game yet.

"Ok then I'll see you tomorrow," he pretended to stretch and yawn, beaming when she stopped in her tracks, "I'm just going to send a quick letter to Snape before I go to bed, for – you know – convenience," he went on. "Who knows? Maybe he'll have it all sorted out over night,"

Slowly, Granger turned to face him, jaw clenched, hands balled up into fists.

"That is," he leant lazily against the pole of his four poster bed, "if you're willing to sacrifice your boyfriend's whole life for a measly month of," he paused, "you know – slavery,"

Granger sucked in a slow, deliberate breath through her clenched teeth.

"But I'm sure he'd understand," Draco nodded thoughtfully, "after all – Granger's ego _always _comes first,"

"Fine!" she growled, "_fine._"

Draco raised an eyebrow, mockingly, "sorry?" 'Fine' what?"

Granger glowered. "Fine I'll do it. You win! I'll say it," she walked forward and snatched up her bag by the handle, "you happy now you little ferr–?"

"Ah!" he stopped her.

She raised an eyebrow.

"And you have to agree to that extra consequence that I told you about the other day,"

Granger's eyes grew wide, "what the favor?"

"Yep,"

"_What?_ No! I'm not doing that! No way!"

Draco shrugged. "Ok then, you can go,"

She blinked, "really?"

"Yeah I'm just going to write that letter and head to bed, so its not like I need you here,"

Granger growled. "Fine!" she spat, "ok agreed – I'll have that extra '_favor_' of yours, even if it kills me," she muttered sourly under her breath.

"Oh relax Granger," he clapped a big hand on her shoulder, resulting in her jerking forward a step, "I'm not going to kill you anytime soon," he grinned and leant forward to press his lips to the shell of her ear, "I've got plans for you that are just too _good_ to lose,"

He felt her shudder under his grip and rejoiced at his effect on her.

"Now say it," he murmured, stepping forward to press himself against her, the hand that wasn't on her arm reaching up to catch her waist, "call me a ferret,"

"Get your hands off me," she spat through gritted teeth.

"Isn't it a little risky to have that tone with the guy who will soon be in full control of your actions, Granger?" he pushed forward slightly, testing her boundaries.

"I said," she spoke the words slowly, "_hands._ _Off._"

"Come on, baby doll, let's not prolong this more than necessary," he purred.

"I am _not_ your baby – don't call me that," she snapped.

"I think you'll find," he picked up a lock of her hair with his left hand and twirled it between two long fingers, watching as the strands shone in the light, "that I can call you whatever I like," he paused, raising his gaze slowly to hers, "_baby,_"

She glowered at him. "I hate you," she stated, "know that,"

Draco smirked at her, "hate is only a hair's breath away from love," he leaned in so that his breath would brush her lips, "are you sure you know the difference?"

"Oh believe me," she bit, "this is hate alright. And not just any hate. Burning-like-the-core-of-the-earth hate,"

He shrugged, returning his gaze to his fingers, "if you say so, bunny,"

Granger growled.

"Now as much as I love this faffing around, I would like to get down to business," he let go of her and took a step back, leaning against the post again and folding his arms over his chest.

* * *

><p>Hermione glared at him. He was so Goddamn <em>cocky.<em>

She still couldn't believe his blackmail. But as much as she wanted to blame somebody else she knew that George – no matter how guilty he was of_other _things – was not to blame. She should have expected it. A sneaky, slimy _Malfoy_ was sure to pull out the blackmail card eventually.

"Now as much as I love this faffing around," Malfoy drawled, "I would like to get down to business," he grinned, his eyes glittering, "now the magic word, please,"

Hermione huffed and glared at him, her hand trembling wildly. "You are a–" she bit the inside of her mouth.

"_Yes?_"

Her hand was trembling so much she had to grab her wrist to stop her shoulder aching. "A stupid, boastful, good for nothing _ferret!_"

The pressure in her wrist grew to an alarming rate, sending her other hand clean off it, before, with a quiet snap, the movement stopped completely.

Small sparks flew out Malfoy's fingertips, who stood staring at his broken hand with a broad smirk, whilst Hermione's hand had gone extremely cold.

She felt pressure on her pulse line and turned her hand over to see small, red-ish letters being engraved painlessly into her wrist.

_Malfoy's Mudblood_

Hermione groaned.

Red ink seemed to seep out the letters across her skin until they joined on the back of her wrist in what horribly resembled a bracelet made of thorns.

Malfoy head snapped up. "What?" he said, a huge grin still plastered on his face, "my little slave, what?"

She lifted her head slightly to glare at him with as much hate as she could muster.

But her expression only made him grin wider. He came forward and snatched her wrist so he could see it.

She watched as his grin grew, if possible, wider.

"What's the matter, pet, does it hurt?" he made to kiss her wrist but she yanked her hand away with a snarl.

"You're a pig!" she spat. "And don't call me 'pet'!"

He shook his head and tutted, "attitude, attitude, baby doll," he leaned in so his breath brushed her ear, "you're mine now,"

Hermione's felt her jaw throb as she ground it shut. "Back off Malfoy,"

The blond pulled back chuckling. "Ooh I see I have some training to do,"

"No 'baby', no 'pet' names and no 'training'!" she growled, stomping her foot childishly, "I am not at an animal, I do not belong to you and you do not get to do with me what you wish! Now I'm _leaving!_" Hermione snatched her bag off the floor and headed towards the wall by the cauldron but she hadn't taken three steps before she froze. She bit her lip.

"Erm…" she squeezed her eyes tightly shut, cursing loudly within the walls of her mind, "Malfoy?"

"Yes, my pet?"

Hermione bit her tongue; "Blaise said he'd kill me if I showed up again,"

There was a short silence before he snorted, "did he now?"

"Erm… yeah?" she bit her lip harder.

"Hmm…" he said quietly, "and what would you like me to do about that, baby doll?"

She couldn't help it. A growl slipped out. "Is there another way out?"

"Hmm…" he said again, guessing that she meant not being seen. "Not at this hour," he came up behind her, "us Slytherins typically stay up later than other houses,"

Hermione turned to face him and was surprised to see him actually deliberating. "So how do I get out then?"

"The safest time is in the morning, whilst everybody is out at breakfast," he grinned, "you could stay the night? I've been having these pains in my shoulders that I wouldn't mind you rubbing down,"

"I am _not _staying the night!" she growled, "and I am _not _rubbing you down!"

"I'm not sure that's your decision to make," he taunted in a singsong voice.

Hermione sucked in a slow breath. "Please Malfoy," she whined, "just bust me out,"

Malfoy drummed his fingers on his chin. "Fine," he said after a while, "but on one condition,"

* * *

><p>Hermione stormed down the school halls. Stupid Malfoy, stupid bet, stupid, stupid, <em>stupid, stupid, stupid!<em>

Why had she gotten herself into this? What the hell was her problem? All so she could see him _humiliated?_ And now _she _would be humiliated!

Oh this was so messed up!

Peeves cackled somewhere behind her and she sped up, anxious to get to her bed.

What time was it? Would Harry or Ron still be up? What if they were?

Her questions were answered when she reached the common room.

"Where have you been?"

Hermione jumped as she looked up to see Harry and Ron both sitting on the two squidgy chairs by the fire.

On the spot, Hermione opted for the truth, "I went to see Malfoy to set some dates for the projects," she grumbled convincingly, plopping down next to Harry whose eyes were red and bloodshot from sleep deprivation. "But unfortunately I got intercepted by Zabini who sent me on a wild goose chase for the ferret," she moaned, putting her head back against the sofa, "and now I'm tired – but I did manage to find him in the end," she peeked at them through half closed eyes, "what about you?" she asked suspiciously.

"Funny actually we were tailing Malfoy," Ron said bluntly, glaring at her, "and we didn't see you at all,"

Hermione blinked, and gulped despite herself. The atmosphere changed. "Well you didn't check the Slytherin dungeons did you?" she mumbled under her breath.

The words didn't escape Ron's notice.

He bolted off the chair, "you went to the _dungeons?_" he all but shouted.

Hermione looked at Harry for help but his face had grown incredibly red and his mouth agape.

She bowed her head, "I told you," she mumbled, "Zabini sent me on a wild goose chase,"

"In the _dungeons?_"

"Well he sent me through a secret passageway that took forever to get through – but come on Ron it's not a big deal!" she reasoned.

"_Not a big deal?_" he yelled, "_Not _a big _deal?_ – This is a _huge _deal Hermione! First you slap my brother then you–!"

Hermione gasped, "he told you about that!"

"Of course he did you bloody well _slapped _him!"

It was Hermione's turn to bolt upright, "Oh you do _not_ know what you're talking about!"

"Oh what is that supposed to mean!"

Their rambling became so loud that words could not be heard. Sometime in the mix, Harry had gotten up and was shouting at Hermione too. It got louder and louder until a high-pitched squawk made all of them look over to the window.

"_Hermes?_" Ron growled.

Hermes, Percy's owl, sat stern looking on the wooden plank of the open window. It squawked disapprovingly at them before spreading its long wings and soaring through the air.

It landed on Ron's shoulder heavily and pecked persistently at his ear.

"Ok, ok!" Ron growled again, ripping the note off the owl's short legs, and popping the seal on the parchment.

Silence.

Ron groaned.

"What is it?" Harry asked after a while.

"Percy," the redhead grumbled. "Ever since I became a Prefect he's been bombarding me with '_advice_',"

Hermione blinked at them. Had they forgotten that she was there?

"Dad managed to get him in touch with with the head of the Department of Broken Magical Objects, last summer," the Weasley grumbled falling back into his seat and rubbing two weary hands over his bloodshot eyes, "and every since he has not shut up about Mr. Crouch and the responsibilities with keeping the Ministry's property in order,"

"_Hello?_" Hermione tried, waving her hand in front of her, "weren't we having an argument here?"

If Ron had heard her, he didn't show it. "Remember Harry when they brought the werewolf Greyback in and he busted through one of those interrogation chairs before making his esc-"

"_Ron!_" Hermione snarled, shuddering sharply at the thought of the werewolf that had bit one of their favourite ex-professors when he was just a child, but when the boy didn't look up, her anger flared. "Fine!"

Hermione snatched her bag off the floor and stormed up the red stairs. Who needed them anyway? It was _her _grades on the line. Their opinion didn't matter and neither did Greyback, quite frankly.

She burst into the Girl's Dormitory as quietly as she could and dropped her bag in the corner by her bed. It landed with a quiet _thunk._

"Hermione?" it was Ginny, pushed up onto her elbows in bed, red hair a wild flame, straight from her pillow and brown eyes hidden behind a scrunched expression as she tried to see in the dark. "'s everything ok?" she mumbled, wiping her eyes with the back of her hands, "I heard yelling-"

"Everything's fine, Gin," Hermione said curtly, cutting her off. Ginny's half asleep self didn't seem to mind the rudeness but Hermione still felt the pang that she usually got from being mean to her best friend. Her voice softened. "Ron's just being a prat is all,"

The redhead gave a small grunt as she fell back onto the bed, face down into her pillow and away from Hermione, already pulling the covers up behind and over her shoulders. "Tell me something I _hadn't _guessed for myself," her voice was muffled, but still audible.

Hermione laughed despite herself.

"But you're alright, aren't you?" Ginny's voice came again, and Hermione looked up to see that she was looking over her shoulder at her.

The brunette smiled, "I'm great, Gin. Go to sleep. You look tired,"

Ginny's hair moved as she nodded, her eyes already closing, and a few seconds later all Hermione could see of her were the three or so tendrils of fiery hair curling over the girl's neck.

Hermione sighed. With a flick of her wand she was in her pajamas and with another the covers were up to her chin and the curtains drawn about her bed. She rarely ever used magic to change her clothes, but tonight she felt as if she would not be able to stand the sudden chill she felt upon herself for long enough physically get into her pijamas.

She sighed again – trying to calm her racing heart and the shudders clawing down her spine from the cold.

And from the thought of Greyback.

It was at times like these where Hermione thought about her future. She'd always thought a career in teaching would be nice, and often spent her evenings thinking what it would be like to teach as Professor McGonagall did, at the front of a Transfiguration class. Or perhaps an Arithmancy class.

But tonight all Hermione could see was a poster she had walked by one day when at the Ministry of Magic. She'd been with Harry and all the others in Dumbledore's Army, heading into the Department of Mysteries, but at that moment she had felt completely alone. By chance, they had chosen two different pictures to go onto the poster. One of Greyback's gnarled face, licking his lips, in a frightening close-up, and the other in the very famous picture, taken several years earlier, of his bursting from the interrogation chair in the middle of a trial when he had been first accused of infecting someone with lycanthropy.

Hermione had only seen the picture fleetingly but it had remained in her memory, imprinted in her subconscious for her worser nightmares.

She had read into it afterwards, frightened out of her wits that somebody could be so powerful, and had found out that the incantation for that very interrogation chair had been cast incorrectly which had therefore enabled Greyback to-

But suddenly something hit her.

And a light bulb shone above her head.

* * *

><p><em>And cliffhanger! Not an awesome one though cuz you probably know what idea she's had. Anyway I hope it wasn't too fast – I did promise that i'd hit two birds with one stone with this one (meaning that I did promise to end the bet and the TSP letter thingy) so I did it!<em>

_See if u can help me – in other FFs that I've read sometimes the author writes R&R – ok I get that one of them means Review but the other? I figured 'Rate' at first but I haven't seen any rating thingymabobs around so… yeah._

_Anyway thnx for reading and I need to hav a bath so - adios_

_looooove_

R.


	19. Ch19: Time, Orders and Madam Pince

**I don't own anything**

OMG IT'S BEEN AGES I'M SORRY! i've just been so- Stop. no. no apologising. Moving on.

Read and Review! I get it now! Funny how it seems obvious now. I feel stupid! Waaaa! ;)

Hey I've just noticed – looking back at Ch8's reviews – that two of you (Merteuil and krista04) have asked me about T.S.P? yeah I can't remember if I've answered you or not (and if I didn't I feel really bad now) so I jus wanna say that I REALLY want to tell you guys stuff but if I do and then have to edit/follow through with something different because of stuff I didn't anticipate then a) I've sort of mislead you and b) it might confuse you. Plus there's the fact that I want you guys to be surprised (even though guesses are quite good now)! So sorry but I really cant! I feel so mean!

Anyway if you feel like suggesting don't hesitate to tell me but I'd prefer a Private Message for suggestions in case I like what I read ;) (obviously if it makes you uncomfortable to send private messages then don't worry).

Right ur probably getting bored of this. Read on my little people!

**Oh wait sorry one last thing!**

**Hey I was thinking of getting Black waters, white stones a Twitter page… you know just to keep you updated on how long it might take to update etc… how many of you would be willing/ able to follow it if I did? it's not definite that i'll get one... jus sayin**

ok off u go

* * *

><p>Hermione growled at her wristwatch. Where the hell was he? Trust Malfoy to be late.<p>

Sighing, she reached forward and snatched the _Wizarding World's Darkest Predators_ book that she had left open on the table for their research. She wanted to get this over with but – as usual – Malfoy had to make it harder for her.

Ever since her epiphany the night before she had been burning energy to no real avail. In the morning the first thing she did, despite the sleepless night, was run to the library and start a frantic search through all Ministry books for anything in the interrogation chairs.

She had be half way through _Ministry's Methods_ however when the bell rang, signalling the beginning of lessons, forcing her to put back all the books she had pulled out before rushing franticly to her next class.

In the haze of everything she had completely forgotten about Malfoy's new hold on her and now her memory had come back full force.

"Oh. My. Bloody. _God!"_ she yelled suddenly, stunning a first year a few tables away and getting a few weird looks from other older students around.

Hermione flushed slightly and hurriedly looked down but her anger was in no way depleted.

For half an hour more she sat there, glare fixed rigidly on the table beneath her, growing angrier and angrier with every waking moment until she was practically trembling.

Stupid, stupid, stupid, stupid, stupid, stupid,_ stupid, stupid, stupid MALFOY!_

She let out a snarl as the last word rang in her head. The first year stood abruptly and moved to another table.

"Been thinking of me Granger?" a cocky voice sounded above her.

Slowly, seething, Hermione turned her head to glare madly at him, realising that she must have been talking out loud.

"Two hours," she choked.

Malfoy looked at her blankly.

"_Two hours!_" she said again, her voice rising towards hysteria as she lifted off her seat. "You had me waiting here _TWO HOURS!_"

"Calm. Down." Malfoy commanded, his eyes shining, voice coated with authority and an eerie calmness that could only come from his father.

Hermione fell back into her seat like a puppet whose strings had been abruptly cut. She felt the weight of his command push down on her and suddenly her erratic breathing calmed, anger slipping away. Her wrist tingled.

Malfoy lowered his hackles and smirked smugly. "That's better,"

Hermione tried her best to glare at him but her anger was sloppy under his command.

The blond opposite seemed oblivious to her attempt. He set his bag up on the table, leant back in his chair and looked up at her with a smug grin, arms folded over his white button up shirt. "So," he drawled, "what are we learning?"

* * *

><p>Oh how he loved tormenting his new pet.<p>

Draco watched as she dropped back down into her seat at his words and tried not to feel too important.

Oh this was going to be fun. A fun month.

He nearly frowned at the thought. A month. It didn't seem like long enough.

Pushing that thought out of his head he sat down, acting indifferent, knowing this would annoy her, and put his bag up onto the table before leaning back and peering at her with a through-the-lashes look he had been working on. "So," he said it slowly, "what are we learning?"

She sent him a half-hearted glare, which nearly made him grin, and looked down at the book that lay open in front of her.

"So," she started, immediately diving into the work. "Patronus's…"

It was about then that Draco tuned out. The work stuff really wasn't in his nature. So what if Patronus's took the shape of an animal to suit your character? Knowing where he was going he was probably never going to _produce_ a Patronus anyway.

So what did it matter?

_Besides,_ his thoughts were quiet, his expression blank, his mind clearly on other things, _Granger will probably end up doing all the work by herself without realising that she is, in fact, doing it by herself._

"_Malfoy!_" Granger's irritating voice snapped him out of his thoughts.

He blinked, his head jerking up. "Hmmm?"

"Are you even listening to me?" she hissed through gritted teeth.

Before he could think of what he was doing, he answered boldly. "No,"

"Urgh!" Granger startled him by bolting straight off her chair, "you're unbelievable!" she yelled, earning a pointed look from the librarian.

Draco suddenly became aware that she was packing away her things.

"I just can't believe I even _bothered!_" she ranted, snatching books up and shoving quills forcefully into her bag, "it's not like you could ever _change!_ Of course! Why would you change? It's not like you _could _ever change! But _still!_ Despite the fact that you probably _know_ you won't change! You still go ahead and _barge _right into my life! Because it's not like you could just _mind your own business!_"

Granger was ranting loud now. She shoved the last of her stuff into her bag, heaved it over her shoulder and jerked away from the table.

* * *

><p>He was unbelievable!<p>

She puts all the effort in to get high grades and he just – just… does things that – just – throw everything else into the toilet! If he was going to be a self-absorbed _jerk_ couldn't he keep it to himself!

_God I hate Malfoy,_

She heaved her bulging bag off the table and yanked herself away.

Why did she have to deal with his crap? Whatever happened she was _going _to get the top marks. Malfoy or no Malfoy she was going to do this.

Just as she'd taken three steps though a strong pressure on her upper-arm pulled her back.

"Oh come on Granger!" Malfoy whined, jokily, twirling her oddly so she faced him.

Hermione growled in frustration and, persistently, drove herself in the other direction.

"Granger – Granger!" he struggled with her sheer lack of will power to get away from him. "Granger! C'm'ere you squirmy little–"

"_Silence _in the Library!" Madam Pince said forcefully from right beside them, grabbing one of Malfoy's arms and one of Hermione's and yanking them apart with surprising strength for an older witch. "Whatever _problems_ you two might have I want them resolved _out-side-the-library!_" each syllable was snapped as she dragged them both to the big oak doors.

"Madam Pince!" Hermione half whined half yelped.

"My bag! My bag you stupid old hag!" Malfoy hissed. "Oh _look!_" he said suddenly, leaning up to glare in her face, "it _rhymes!_"

Hermione gasped.

Madam Pince seemed to steam with rage. She dropped him with an aggressive jerk and watched, steaming, as he picked up his bag from where it sat by the chair before snatching him, all the more aggressively, by his collar so that his face was inches from hers.

"Very good Mr Malfoy," she said in a low snarled voice, "it _rhymes_. I wonder how Professor Dumbledore would feel about your _accomplishment_ at _rhymes_,"

Both Malfoy's and Hermione's eyes widened.

"Madam Pince, but you can't! I need him for my Defence Against the Dark Arts proje–"

"Oh I don't think you'll be doing much of that once Professor Dumbledore has been through with the both of you," the Librarian replied with a malice that was unknown to the Gryffindor.

Hermione's eyes widened. "The _both_ of us? But–?"

"Oh yes Miss Granger don't think you're getting away with this unscathed – _havoc _in the Library!"

She dragged them, kicking and shouting, through the Library doors and into the dark corridors. Peeves zoomed over them and cackled loudly.

"_Let go!_" Malfoy yelled, fighting the vice grip on his collar.

"Oh no Mr. Malfoy," Madam Pince snarled with vigour, "you're not getting rid of me tonight,"

"I beg to differ," said a sneering voice from the black shadows, making both the students jump.

Madam Pince narrowed her eyes at the darkness. "Who are you and what do you want?"

"I dismiss you Madam Pince," a tall figure stepped forward enough that they could see the broad outline but not the features on his face. "You are no longer needed,"

And before either student could react, the figure had lifted his wand and cast a spell.

* * *

><p><em>well there it is! Sorry it's short. i don't even have an excuse to why it's short since i've had - what? - like a month to write it.<em>

_sorry about the cliffy. i just thought it was meant to be. ;)_

_anyway i wanted to thank u all for following and ask you to please forgive me for being late and that my A/N are so LONG! i know it gets boring to read them but i really wouldn't put them if i felt like i didn't have to._

_i__f you skipped the top bit today would it be alright if you did me a favour and just went up there a second now to read the thing about Twitter for me?_

_that would be great thanks_

_again, sorry it was late._

_loooove_

R.

oh and MERRY CHRISTMAS EVERYBODY!


	20. Ch20: Rats, Loose Pipes and Violations

**not mine - never will be - never was.**

omg i am hella-pissed! i was just writing this introduction JUST NOW! i had it all written out how i decided to take a break but didn't want to publish another chapter to notify you because i didn't want you to see my update and get ur hopes up for a new chapter and not find it. and how my computer caught a virus and was down then how AS I WAS FINISHING the chapter my cat jumped on the keys and frikin FROZE the damp thing and "i couldn't find the file on my desktop and couldn't open it from the folder" and all that! i'd JUST WRITTEN ALL OF THAT **LITERALLY **JUST NOW when as i was thanking Delirious dreamer xx my frikin internet went beserk and was like "sorry this page couldn't be found"! AAARGG! i have had NO LUCK! 

anyway thanks to Delirious dreamer xx whose comment just broke my heart with guilt because i was literally like "omg! ive abandoned them!" and thanks to all my other readers. please feel free to re-read the whole thing (if you can be bothered) if you've forgotten the story a lil bit and i swear i will try to update more but - again - don't put ur hopes up because i would hate to disappoint you guys again.

i tried to give you guys as much humour as i could to make up for my absence and also a little Dramione action towards the end. but only a little... B) heh hehe.

ok go read you schnoobles! ... if there's... such a... word... 

* * *

><p>Hermione opened her mouth to scream but her voice got stuck somewhere on the way up.<p>

She whipped her head back, half expecting to see Madam Pince fly backward or drop down unconscious. Or even dead. But what she saw instead was the back of Malfoy's collar being prized from the Librarian's thin fingers by something undetectable.

"Wha-wait!" Madam Pince choked, scrambling with her grip.

Hermione realised with a start that she too was drifting away.

The Librarian's fingers laced around the student's arms. "Who do you think you are?" she hissed.

"Calm down Madam Pince," the figure drawled, stepping out into the light.

Hermione's eyes widened.

"I'll take the students from here," Professor Snape flicked his fingers and snatched a writhing Malfoy out of the air. He extended his fingers towards her and Hermione felt herself being dragged over to him.

_Oh God! Oh God! Oh God! Oh God not Snape!_

"Why is there a problem with that Madam Pince?"

The Librarian smiled evil-y at them. "No by all means Professor Snape," she said lightly, "take them,"

_Oh this is going to be a long night,_ Hermione thought wryly.

* * *

><p>The next few hours – and much of the next morning – passed in a blur as Hermione's desire for sleep grew.<p>

It took an amazing amount of time to reach the stone gargoyle in front of Professor Dumbledore's office – Professor Snape's silent demeanour not easing the tense atmosphere in the slightest.

Malfoy spent the whole 'ride' cursing and yelling that his father would have a say in this and that he'd only been a _tad _rude to Madam Pince and how this was all seriously overrated, whilst Hermione walked in silence – being severely intimidated by the Professor-in-black.

When they reached Professor Dumbledore's office Snape had muttered the password ("Sugar-coated Lollipop") and thrust them into the stairs, following quickly before shoving them through the Head's door.

They had found him sitting at his desk and then all started talking at once.

Snape had ranted of their rudeness in the Library, Malfoy had ranted about _Snape's _rudeness _outside _the Library, Hermione had ranted about needing to do her homework and Peeves – who had been under questioning by Dumbledore, on the Barron's request, before they'd arrived – had had a field day.

In the end; Hermione got a saw throat, Malfoy got a ruffled hairdo and fixed fingers, Peeves got – temporary – freedom from the distraction they'd provided, Dumbledore showed amazing patience, and everybody got a detention for the next night ("Wednesday 8;00(pm) sharp"). Except Dumbledore – naturally.

Hermione and Malfoy were soon chucked out of the office – after an amused lecture from Dumbledore (that the Professor-in-black had insisted he give) – and Snape disappeared into the night with a stealth that suggested years of stalking experience.

Hermione insisted Malfoy walk her to the Gryffindor common room so they could talk over their new homework arrangement and had concluded that:

- Thursday afternoon they would go to the potions room and re-brew the Drought of Living Death for homework.

- Friday afternoon they would finish the Patronus essay in the Library (after _both _writing letters of apology to Madam Pince).

- and Saturday they would meet each other in the Room of Requirement at 3;00(pm) to practice _performing _a Patronus Charm as to not get them on Snape's _even-bad-er _side.

Then they promptly said good night – both too exhausted to throw insults or try to play games by ordering the other around because of the authority a bet had given them – and Hermione had gone to bed.

The next morning, Hermione got jumped on by Ginny, – who complained loudly about 'this friend of hers' that stayed up _all night _without telling her and leaving her bored and alone – got attacked by Lavender (verbally), and nearly choked at the sight of her frizzy hair after her shower, so then had to straighten it.

She ate breakfast in the main hall – eggs – and didn't see Malfoy until just before lunch.

"It wasn't much fun. Snape was practically _smirking –_" Hermione babbled to her red-head friend, only to be cut short by a hissing sound.

"Psst!"

Ginny blinked, "what?"

Hermione frowned, "nothing… I thought I heard–"

"Psst!"

Hermione's frown deepened as she spun around, feeling like she should investigate. But there was nothing there.

"Maybe just a rat–?"

But she'd seen it now. Just slightly behind them, an empty classroom door was slightly ajar, one silver eye, barely visible, peeking between the slit. Hermione sighed. "Hang on a sec, Gin – look you just go on without me, I think something's up in this classroom."

Ginny blinked, "I-are you sure? I mean – I could come with you?"

Hermione made a dismissive gesture, "nah, don't worry. I think it might be Crookshanks – o-or a rat," – she sent a sharp look at the door and saw the silvery eyes narrow – "either way, don't worry. I'll be down at the Great Hall in a sec," she smiled in, what she hoped was, a reassuring manner, rather than in an 'I'm-just-about-to-pissed-off-and-I-_know_-_it_!' way.

Ginny sent her a strange look, smiled hesitantly and nodded, "ok… if you're sure…" and then turned and walked away.

Hermione watched her until she was sure she was a good distance away before walking – swiftly – towards the door and shoving it open, smiling despite herself when Malfoy had to stagger back quickly to avoid being hit in the face by a big wooden door. "What now?"

"Jeez! S'about time, Granger!" he growled, "I felt like a bloody loose pipe going – _psst! Psst!_"

Hermione, who now stood with her arms crossed, eyebrow raised and weight resting on her right foot ready to start tapping it to create effect, stared at him. "You done now?"

Malfoy glared. "_Yes,_"

"Good," she walked over to lean against a desk, "so what do you want?"

The blond smirked, and strolled over to stand inches away from her. He looked down at a strand of her curly hair, resting _oh-so-conveniently_ over the swell of her breast, and picked it up with his long, white fingers, careful to keep his eyes down. "And what if I just wanted to see you, my pet?"

Hermione gritted her teeth. Just as easily the tables reversed. She had walked in, smooth, casual and cocky and he'd been in a mood. And now it was the other way around. "Don't call me 'pet'." She snarled.

That – evidently – was the wrong move.

Malfoy's eyes snapped up to hers, cold and sharp. "You're resistance is starting to annoy me. Listen to me," he said tightly, his fingers letting go of the strand he held and reaching up to grasp her chin. He spoke levelly, with a steely voice, "from now I will call you pet – or _bunny!_ Or _baby_ – and you won't do a damn thing about it. Is that clear?"

Startled, she looked up at him. Their eyes connected, Hermione's heart started thundering in her chest, her heart beat the only sound shattering the silence – yet only she could hear it. The air grey thick in the room, denser, became harder to suck into her lungs. His eyes. His eyes were all she could see. All she was aware of. Those smouldering grey eyes…

"I said," his voice was much softer now. He swallowed and Hermione could have sworn his eyes flickered down to her lips, "is that _clear_?"

Hermione felt like a cold hand was clamping down on her brain. Her eyes misted over – literally, she could feel it – and, mutely, she nodded. And then she was back into semi-consciousness, but still under the spell, still caught up in this knew world where hear heart was all she could think about because it was so _present_. Her wrist – the one with his _mark _on it – burned, but not it a painful way. More like the alluring stab that you get when picking a scab. Painful, but draws you in – makes you want to do it again.

Malfoy seemed to soften slightly, but the look of dominance sparked clearly in his eyes. "Good," he said softly, slightly-wide eyes still capturing hers, "now," he murmured – then suddenly his narrowed slightly, still trapping her but different. Almost curious. But dangerous. "Push your chest into mine,"

Hermione's eyes widened only slightly in the horror she could feel deep, deep inside that rational side of hers that had nearly all but disappeared as she stared at Malfoy. Suddenly she moved. Automatically – robotically – her body followed his orders. She squirmed internally.

_What on earth – are you out of your _mind? Her mind – and rational side – screamed. _This is Malfoy! Mal-foy! Get a-hold of yourself!_

But her mind was so quiet – stuck under Malfoy's orders – and, as she'd noticed before, her rational side was too far away to wake her up this strange spell she was under. Trapped in his eyes.

There was something steely – something chilling – there, in his silver eyes, even as he smirked. Slowly he bent his head, lowering it by fractions at a time, and pressed it to the right side of her neck, his lips just under her ear.

"Hold still," he breathed, and Hermione followed his orders.

Her heart was thundering so fast she was sure Malfoy could feel it, there in her neck, her body was responding when it shouldn't be. Goosebumps rose on her arms, her living, pumping organ, played boxing with her ribcage and her breaths shot in and out of her in shallow pumps. But she was waking up now. Something about the physical reaction was pushing her rational side further into her consciousness.

"Hmmm," Draco groaned, and Hermione felt the soft flutter of his pale eyelashes as he closed his eyes. She felt his big, white hand snaked up her hip and stopped to rest just under her left breast. "Now _this,_" he said quietly, voice gruff, and breath ghosting over her skin, "is what Mudbloods' should _really _be used for,"

Hermione's eyes flickered as a thought drifted to the surface of her mind. _Mudblood…_

And then something snapped.

Her eyes un-misted – if there was such a word – and Hermione – Hermione Jean Granger, the girl with a rational side that could stare off an elephant – came right back to her like an elastic band being let go after being held taught. Her knee-jerk reaction kicked in immediately as her blood began to boil. "Get _off _of me," she screamed suddenly, as her arms shot forward and hit him, hard on the shoulders.

Malfoy, caught by surprise, flew several feet back and tumbled to the floor.

Hermione glared.

He was _snickering!_

"Oh Granger!" he howled, "that was the… entertaining thi– I've done all year – thank… you!" he choked between laughs.

"You _arsehole!_" Hermione snarled. "You-you-you took advantage of me!" she yelled. She was seething! Hermione shuddered. Something about what had just happened had screwed with her head.

Her heart was still thundering in her chest and the burn on her wrist was only just fading. She felt _dirty_. Like somebody had violated her.

"Jeez!" Malfoy gasped, "you make it sound like I raped you!"

"You're an arsehole!" she yelled, "a stupid, arrogant, stuck up, snobby, insolent, molesting _arsehole!_"

"'Molesting'" he snorted, still laughing, as he raised himself off the floor, "don't you think that's exaggerating slightly?"

"No!" Hermione yelled, "I don't think it's exaggerating! You're an arsehole – and a molesting one too – I hate you!" and before he could answer Hermione snatched up her bag – which she didn't even remember bringing and stormed out of the room, trying, unsuccessfully, to contain the tears that were leaking down her cheeks.

* * *

><p><em>oh Dramione, Dramione, why art thou sowt yummy tow readith and writith? yeah a little B.W. poetry for you there ;). oh how i have missed you guys btw.<em>

_man it's late here! yawn! ok u guys, i'm gunna snooze. please r&r - i kno what that means now! - just a small comment will surely raise my self esteem and - who knows - maybe then i'll write faster and feed you guys with more updates. lol  
><em>

_ok good night kiddies_

_loooooveeee ("...you Malfoy!")_

R.


	21. Ch21: Peeves, Willows and Salve

**Do not own anything although i do wish i had a Draco...**

****hey guys i kno it's been AGES since i've updated but i've decided to make it up to you - i think u'll find this chapter a wee bit longer than what's usual but not by much because i was just so anxious to update that i couldn't bring myself to add more.

****Plus i find this cliffy just too GOOD to resist leaving you with it... muhahahahaha

enjoy

R.

* * *

><p><strong>The Previous Night:<strong>

Ron cursed under his breath. One minute – one _minute _– he turns around for _one minute _to pee – leaving Harry to keep his post under the Invisibility Cloak by the Library – and now Harry's gone.

_Ok I get it that Harry's a little paranoid – but there's only _so _much Death Eater work you can do with Hermione with you._

So now there he was – at Merlin-knows-what-time – wondering around the castle like a prat. He couldn't just leave Harry. What if something happened?

Strolling with his hands deep within his robe pockets he checked the Room of Requirement, the Slytherin dungeons, the Gryffindor Common Room – including the Boy's Dorm – and the Lake. Nowhere. Harry was nowhere.

Huffing, he looked at his watch, about the only muggle thing he owned apart from clothes and sighed. It was getting late. And the more he stayed out, the more chance a Prefect would catch him.

Deciding that Harry could find his way back without him, Ron trudged back to the Gryffindor Tower and was so busy looking behind him for Prefects that he didn't notice somebody until he banged into them so hard that he stumbled backwards a few steps. He swore.

"_Lumos!_" They hissed and then added, "watch'it Weasel!"

Ron looked up to see the person he least wanted to see.

"Shove off Malfoy!" he growled at the blonde, whipping out his wand.

"Watch your mouth Weasel!" Malfoy snarled, he too raising his lit wand. The light burned Ron's eyes and sent everything around them into blackness.

They began to circle each other. "What are you doing near the Gryffindor Tower so late, Malfoy?" Ron asked suspiciously.

"None of your business, blood traitor!" he snapped then smirked. "And what are _you _doing out so late, freckle face?"

Ron flushed angrily.

"Hmm I wonder if I should say anything to Blaise," he said in mock thought, "or Filch,"

"Oh shut up Malfoy, you're out too," Ron fumed, feeling his temper spark.

"Oooooooh! I hear VOICES!" came a cackling voice from above.

Both boy's faces snapped up.

"_Peeves,_" Malfoy cursed. They stared up for another few seconds before looking down at each other. Malfoy smirked, "be seeing you Weasel,"

Ron, who didn't want to let Malfoy get away unscathed, hissed, "oh no you don't Malf-!"

But it was too late. With a hushed "_Nox!_" everything went black and Malfoy disappeared.

Ron cursed but hurried to hide behind a suit of armour as Peeves got nearer.

"Trouble makers! Trouble makers! What do you do?" he sang, "pretty Peevesie! Wicked Peevesie! _Will _findyou!"

Peeves gave a wicked cackle before the _whoosh _of wind announced him gone. Ron stood stock still for a few more seconds before poking his head out from behind the armour.

But before he could take another breath, something hit him hard around the back of the head and Ron stopped thinking for a while.

* * *

><p><strong>Present Day<strong>

"Hermione! Hermione!" Harry's voice called.

As hurriedly as possible Hermione wiped the tears from her cheeks and turned to give her friend a watery smile. "What, Harry?"

"We've found him!" Harry huffed, putting his hands on his knees as he tried to regain breath. "He was under the Willow by the lake – we found him!"

Hermione felt a ball of worry forming in her chest, "What? Found who?"

Harry sent her a disbelieving, confused look through his fringe-line. "Ron, Hermione. We found _Ron_,"

The brunette grasped her friend's arm and shook her head in confusion. "What do you mean you've _found _him? Where was he?"

Harry stared at her. "What – haven't you…? Hermione, Ron's been missing all morning,"

Hermione froze, feeling something cold grab her. _Ron _had been _missing? _"Missing…?" she said faintly.

"Yes, Hermione!" said Harry angrily, "missing! Seamus, Dean and me have been looking for him all morning! We thought you and Ginny were at it too!"

"What?"

Harry stared in disbelief. "Didn't you _notice?_"

But Hermione had caught onto something else, desperate not to think of it that way. She _hadn't _notice. She hadn't noticed her friend was gone. What did that mean? "_Ginny?_" Hermione rasped, "_Ginny _didn't tell _me_ anything! Wait – Ginny and me were _just _walking together! Why didn't she say anything?"

Harry growl. "Never mind that now, we need to get to the Hospital Wing!"

He snatched her hand and pulled her into a run.

"Harry! Harry! Slow down!" she gasped clutching her stitch with her right hand as he pulled ferociously at her left.

On the way they saw Ginny, who immediately called out to them. "Hermione? Harry?"

Unable to stop, Hermione simply grabbed her hand and forced her into a run after them. Ginny, who felt like she'd just been hit by one of those big, red muggle _busses, _stumbled along behind them, having to use her best friend as a rope to keep her upright.

After a lot of cursing, yelling, stumbling and gasping, they reached the Hospital Wing and were immediately greeted by half of the Gryffindor Tower – most of which were Weasleys anyway – telling them to _shh!_

The rest of Ron's family had apparently Flooed in immediately, except Mr Weasley – the only reason Hermione could think was that his job hadn't let him – and all stood huddled around the bed in which he slept.

It was then, when the Weasleys' parted to hug her hello, that she caught sight of Ron.

The whole right side of his head was sparkling darker than it should be and, with a sickening twist of the stomach, she realised that it was blood. Faintly she noticed the bottle of Skele-Gro on his bedside and with another jolt she saw that his head wasn't quite the right shape, flattened and wobbly where it shouldn't be.

The rest of him was concealed under the Hospital Wing's pale blue covers and Hermione was grateful for that small mercy.

"_RON!_" Ginny screamed, to which almost all the boys flinched and moved their hands up as if to cover their ears, and flung herself at her older brother.

But even Hermione, blinded by tears, saw that wasn't a good idea, and wasn't surprised when everybody jerked forward simultaneously to stop her. It was Mrs Weasley, however, who caught her first and now they both stood crying wrapped in each other's arms.

Numbly, Hermione looked over to Harry, who was watching his friend with an expression that looked like _he _wanted to fling himself at the redhead, and caught his gaze. Wordlessly, he pulled her into a hug, tucking her head under his chin.

"How did it happen?" she whispered after a while, her words mumble into his neck. "How did you find him?"

Harry's arms tightened a little and his cheek moved soothingly over her forehead. "We found him under the Willow, – you know – the one by the lake? It was raining. He was drenched and bleeding all over,"

Hermione whimpered a little, tears welling up.

"Shh, shh, it's ok," said Harry, rubbing her back.

"I didn't even notice!" she cried quietly against his neck, and let out a sob. "_I didn't even_ _notice!"_

He didn't say anything to this, just kept rubbing, and Hermione cried a little louder as her heart slowly shrivelled up.

* * *

><p>"But I don't get it," Hermione said angrily, "why didn't Ginny <em>tell <em>me? I could have helped!"

"Tell you what?"

Hermione jumped and turned in her seat at the Gryffindor table to see Ginny, big brown eyes swollen and puffy, standing behind her – looking quite dishevelled.

"Oh," said Hermione softly, welling up a little at the tears in her friend's eyes. "Ginny how are you?"

The sound of Harry eating opposite her stopped.

Ginny sighed and fell heavily on the bench beside her. "I'm alright, I guess," she sniffed, then she shook her head, "tell you what?"

Hermione hesitated. Would the argument upset her? "Ginny why didn't you tell me about everybody looking for Ron?"

Ginny's eyebrows furrowed. "How could I tell you?" she said, her voice thick, "I didn't know," then her eyes filled with tears, "you think that if I'd've known I wouldn't have _done _anything?"

Hermione looked at her in alarm. "No! I didn't mean-"

"I don't want to hear it!" Ginny yelled, emotion taking control of her, "save it for someone who _deserves _not to be treated like a _human being!_"

And with that, she strode out of the Great Hall.

"Ginny!" Hermione cried.

"Leave it," Harry said softly, grasping the brunette's wrist.

"But I didn't mean-"

"She knows that," said Harry, letting go of her, "she's just a little emotional, is all. Mind you, we are too. I don't think it wise for anyone to provoke us today,"

Hermione sighed. "I just wish I hadn't brought it up now," she put her head in her hands, "she didn't know! I came off as a right...!" she trailed off, not wanting to swear.

Harry frowned, – she saw the creases in his cheeks through her fingertips – and shook his head. "I wonder why she didn't,"

Hermione looked up, puzzled, "you told her didn't you?"

Harry shook his head, "we were busy trying to find him – I told George to tell you,"

Hermione gaped.

_George?_

* * *

><p>George stood staring at his bare-chested self in his private dorm. Most of the skin on his front was singed from the Blast-Ended Skrewts – they were still growing at a phenomenal speed and needed daily tending.<p>

He winced, dipping his fingers in the pale-coloured salve he'd picked up at the Hospital Wing after the long hours spent there.

It had gotten dark outside by the time he'd gotten back and his chest had been burning with renewed vigour after all of the waiting before treatment.

Wincing and hissing slightly, he pushed his salve-smeared fingers onto his chest and begun rubbing it in, groaning and wincing at the burn.

There was a _tap, tap, tap _so quiet that the first time, George didn't hear it. It came again, louder and George identified it as the door. Frowning, he put down the open salve on his bedside and went to open it.

"_Hermione?_" he breathed, a little stunned.

But before he could say anything else, she interrupted. "You've been ignoring me!" she fumed.

"What?" he blinked, and then swallowed, "I haven't been-"

"Harry _told _me that he told you to come and tell me about Ron!" she yelled, "you wouldn't _not _tell me something as serious as that if you weren't _ignoring me!_"

George sighed, "look, 'Mione-"

"So you're _admitting _it?"

The redhead gave her a weird look, "I don't know what you want me to say,"

"I _want _you to tell me _why _you're ignoring me!" she yelled, so loud that a few Gryffindors poked their heads round to stare into his room.

Hushing her, he circled around her and closed the door with a quiet snap. "Hermione-"

"Ever since you – you b-beat Malfoy it's like you never say hi to me anymore an-and I don't understand!"

"Hermione-"

"Well I do – you're ashamed – and you _should _be – but that doesn't mean you should _ignore me,_" she stopped, scratched her head then furrowed her eyebrows, "oh but it does! Never mind – I should leave. This was all a waste of-"

"_Hermione!_" George yelled, cupping his palm over her mouth. "Shh – I'll talk now ok?"

She nodded and he sighed, scratching the back of his neck. "I suppose I _have _been ign-_avoiding _you, and yes I suppose I _am _ashamed but Hermione I think I've really just been trying to pick up the guts to tell you that I _swear _that I didn't mean to hurt him-"

"George I didn't come here to discuss Malfoy, I just wanted to know the reason that you-"

"But that _is _the reason Herms!" he said frantically, "I've just been feeling so – so _mortified _– with the whole thing and I couldn't – I just couldn't face you," he fell heavily back onto the bed, wincing behind his hands at the sting in his chest as he did. "I'm just so sorry you had to go through that,"

George sat there, feeling that horrible feeling in his chest like someone had dumped a bucket of water on him before Hermione's change of topic startled him.

"What happened to your chest?"

George looked at her through his fingers, studying her face for a few seconds. "Skrewts," he said simply.

There was silence for a few minutes, in which George's hand slowly went back to covering his eyes, before; "you should really get that treated,"

"Salve's on the bedside," he mumbled.

Some more silence in which all he heard was the rustling of robes.

Suddenly Hermione was sitting beside him. The bed dipped, however slightly, and he straightened up in time to see her small fingers, smeared with salve, reach forward to touch his chest.

He hissed a little at first contact but swallowed it up when she muttered a quiet _sorry_; and soon the pain ebbed away and all he could concentrate on was the pressure, the circular rubbing motions she was making, on his chest.

He exhaled shakily, using her force as an excuse to lean forward into her touch, ignoring the mild stinging.

There was silence but it was not at all uncomfortable as George slowly let his head loll forward…

Hermione cleared her throat and pulled her fingers away from him quiet suddenly, leaving the redhead to clear his muddled thoughts. "Um," she said, and looked up at him with flickering eyes, "I think that should be enough…" she said quietly about to put the black lid back on when their eyes connected.

The world seemed to stop as they both lost themselves in each other's brown orbs, and Hermione couldn't help thinking, in her dazed state, how red and brown went oh, so well together…

They were quiet close now. When George had leant forward he had placed his right hand slightly behind her, by her rear, to lean on, putting his right shoulder by her left one in a way that still left his broad chest facing her. Then his head had rolled forward leaving it just above hears and very close. The position would not have been too… endearing had they not been looking at each other, but as soon as they did its meaning changed completely.

Hermione was completely transfixed by his eyes, her face arranged into what George thought was the most adorably innocent expression, and it was only a faint voice in her head that registered the dip in the mattress as the redhead leaned forward…

The lid of the salve slipped between her fingertips and landed on her foot. The salve case was made of plastic, so it didn't hurt her in anyway, but the rattle it made when it hit her foot then the floor, though quiet, was enough to nock them out of their stupor.

They both looked down at it for a few seconds – and instantly their position became a lot less… endearing – before leaning away from each other with nervous glances and laughs.

It was then that Hermione noticed a great, black hawk hovering outside George's bedroom window.

She jumped, gasped, and all but sprinted towards the glass, shoving it open, snatching the small note it had – so small that it had to be held in it's beak – brought to her and slamming the window shut before it could enter.

"Hermione? What is it?" George asked slowly, receiving no answer.

He watched Hermione's face in alarm, as it turned from anxious, to wide-eyed, to extraordinarily pale and blank. She swallowed, jerked her chin up high and started making her way to the door with hurried steps muttering, "I'm sorry, Fred, but I have to go," before stepping out the door in a flutter of robes.

George slumped against the posts of his bed, stunned, staring at the door in shocked silence. "I'm George," he mumbled, to no one in particular.

But before he could recover, he noticed that, in her haste, the small piece of parchment the hawk had brought her had flown out of her grasp and onto the lush crimson carpet.

Numbly, he got up and picked up the little note with long, pale fingers.

It read;

_My patience is wearing thin._

_Punishments are due to those who won't obey._

_Won't you obey, my sweet?_

_Be seeing you._

_X_

_T.S.P_

* * *

><p><em>alight that's it for now! hope u liked it!<em>

_gtg - bedtime!_

_night_

_R._


	22. Ch22: Nicholas, Clicks and 'Sweet's

**I own nothing! as u kno.**

this chapter is dedicated to Andreaa, whose review made me jump to my keyboard just that much faster!

to the rest of you - i hope you enjoy the FANTACULAR cliffie at the end - if i may compliment myself - hehehe. if you guys could let me kno what you thought of it.

i'm not sure about you but i think this one is pretty spicy (a little LITTLE longer than usual :D) but the next one will be spicier! hehehe

enjoy.

* * *

><p><em>My patience is wearing thin.<em>

_Punishments are due to those who won't obey._

_Won't you obey, my sweet?_

_Be seeing you._

_X_

_T.S.P_

Hermione was hyperventilating as she rushed through the black Hogwarts corridors in a flurry of bushy hair and dark robes.

_My patience is wearing thin…_

Her heart sped up.

_Punishments are due to those who won't obey…_

What on earth did he mean by _punishments?_ Was she going to _meet _him if she didn't deliver? Maybe have a serious chat?

_Certainly not a chat, Hermione,_ she thought gravely then shuddered. She remembered the specially extended bag she had been given by _him_, under the bed where she'd left it and shuddered again.

This was it, no more risks. It had to be done tonight.

"Ah _Miss Granger_, and what are you doing out so late?"

Hermione nearly jumped out of her skin, and had spun around with her wand raised to point at whoever it was behind her.

"Now surely that's not necessary!"

"_Nick!" _she gasped.

"Miss Granger," he frowned. "Please, call me Nicholas _de Mimsy_, _Nick _is so _improper_,"

Hermione blinked then nodded and gave a sweet, hesitant smile. "Sorry Nicholas," she said politely, before continuing, "but you'll always be Nick to me,"

Nick made a face, and muttered a grim, "_alright,_"

Hermione smiled.

"If I may know, where are you off to in such a hurry anyway, Miss Granger?" the ghost inquired, "you very nearly crashed into me. You students really oughtn't anger Filch on such a regular basis,"

Hermione smiled again, but it was, all of them were really, fake. Her hands were still shaking, "oh only the library, as usual," she laughed weakly at the joke, "speaking of which I really must go,"

"Well _ok,_" he huffed, "never any company in this castle – except Peeves! And all but the Baron knows what a nightmare_ he _is!"

"Hey, Nick," Hermione said cautiously.

Nick turned his wobbly head back to look at her.

"You won't… _tell _anyone I'm up, right?" she watched his expression.

Nick sighed and rolled his eyes, "oh very well, Miss Granger,"

Hermione smiled a brilliant smile, whispered, "thanks, Nick! I owe you!" before sprinting off into the dark leaving Nick to once again to finish the conversation by himself.

"Of all the students out of bed tonight you'd expect _Miss Granger _to be company," he muttered, turning to cast his ghostly light over the corridor behind him. "Oh well… at least she didn't crash into you like the last one…"

* * *

><p>Hermione had her wand raised before she even got to the Library door, knowing that Madam Pince always locked it before leaving every night – either that or she locked herself <em>in<em>.

She didn't hear the usual click of the lock turning when she muttered her _Alohomora_ but was far too upset and an emotional wreck to really think about it. Maybe it was just the thundering of her heart in her ears that stopped her hearing it.

The brunette couldn't shake the feeling of freedom as she stalked the rows of shelves with her lit wand before her. She had left her heavy bag in the girl's dorm and it was liberating not to have to fret about remembering which of the countless tables she had left it at or if it was currently being filled with rigged dungbombs by a devious fifth year student.

Humming despite the _reason _she was in the Library, she slowed down and came to a halt in the section that held all of the old, Ministry related books, her eyes widening in wonder at a spine three times the width of her head with pieces of paper visibly sticking out of in every direction. Her eyes flickered over the spine and saw that it was called _The Ministry's Histories' by_ _Romilda Millings._

Hermione itched to pick it up, thirsty for the information…

_My patience is wearing thin._

Shuddering, she moved on.

"_Ministries' in Peril_, _Ministers of Ministries of Magic_, _Ministry's Mysteries…_" she recited under her breath eyebrows furrowing as she concentrated. Concentrated so hard that she didn't hear the creaking of the floor boards in the next row or the fluttering of fabric against wood. "_Minister's Mothers'_… aha!" she drawled, "Bingo! _Ministry's Meanings, Methods and Measures'!_"

Hermione slipped her slender fingers over the top of the spine and pulled the book loose, not bothering to bring it to a table, and instead just propping it up against the shelves and her hip. Struggling under the weight, she anxiously flicked through the pages, seeing all sorts of things she didn't want to see.

Finally she stopped, gasping and trebling, at the picture of a writhing man at the mercy of a great Dementor in the very chair she needed.

…_Though now used as seats for those being interrogated at the Ministry's mercy, the Interrogation Chairs used to be what the worst of criminals were forced into in their cells at Azkaban Prison. The theory behind this being that the vulnerability of the restraint proved to concentrate the effects of the Dementor's feeding. _

_The theory still stands today but the chair's function had been changed to interrogation after the Great Kiss of 1940, which lead to the death of Barenboim Fry, who had been, in reality, sentenced to a life in prison. A life cut short by a Dementor who got carried away in the act. This resulted in the largest court case against the Ministry from all of the families that Barenboim had harmed. Families that had wanted him to rot for life._

_After this the chairs were no longer deemed safe for prisoners who had their lives to live in Azkaban and were immediately sent back to storage until their other use was discovered: to interrogate._

_Interrogation Chairs are still used today in every Ministry case…_

Hermione read with wide eyes and shuddered at the end. And she thought Azkaban was bad _now._

She looked down and kept on reading.

It turned out that Interrogation Chairs had actually been around for a _long _time so Hermione wasn't surprised when the spell to make them turned out to actually be a rather long phrase in Latin.

Hermione squirmed against the weight and, after a few minutes of wrestling against it, she managed to balance the heavy book on her left arm just long enough for her to whisper, "_Accio Library Chair!"_.

The chair came zooming to a halt and this time Hermione heard the muffled grunt-like sound that came with it.

She froze.

Silence.

"H-Hello?" Hermione called, in a small voice. Nothing.

Gulping she looked back down at _Ministry's Meanings, Methods and Measures' _and read the phrase over to familiarise herself with it.

She frowned. It really was complicated. Something easily associable with her stalker. She stopped. Is that what he was? A stalker? More like a harasser.

_Cathedra mortem punire inimicos._

_Cathedra mortem punire inimicos._

_Cathedra mortem punire inimicos._

_Cathedra mortem punire inimicos._

Was that just her imagination or did something just creak?

_Cathedra mortem punire inimicos._

_Cathedra mortem punire inimicos._

_Cathedra mortem punire inimicos._

There it was again. Closer. She shook her head. _Don't be paranoid Hermione._

_Cathedra mortem punire inimicos._

_Cathedra mortem punire inimicos._

A scratching sound.

_Cathedra mortem punire inimicos._

Ok that was definitely a creak.

_Cathedra mortem punire inimicos._

A whisper of movement behind–

"_Cathedra mortem punire inimicos,_" said a voice in Hermione's ear and her wand slipped from between her fingers in surprise. She froze, drawing breath for a roof-shattering scream. Then it spoke again.

"Hello, my sweet,"

* * *

><p><em>hehe. i like cliffies...<em>

_ok - readers choice:_

_either i _

_1) write a really short chapter called "Attack, Assault and TSP" (because unless i change my mind that_ is _TSP :DD)__ - which will be out quickly (hopefully within 24 hours). *this is most likely*  
><em>

_or_

_2) i just include this bit in the next chapter (will take AGES)._

_kk lemme kno _

_R&R!_

_luv you all!_

_R._


	23. Ch23: Attack, Assault and TSP

**do not own... anything...**

hey guys! since two of you (edwardsoneandonlylove and PinkMusicalCherry) voted for the first option (the short bonus chapter) I WENT AND WROTE IT!

ladies and gents this is _Attack, Assault and TSP - _specially made to chill you to the bone (i hope) and stuff!

**read it slowly and out loud!** trust me it gives a better effect!

have a good time! i'll try and update soon! **PLEASE R&R!** reviews really do spur me on! plus i am DYING to know what you think of this!

ok ba-bye!

* * *

><p>Hermione felt her whole body tense then subsequently shudder, then tense again.<p>

Her blood was pounding, her eyes were un-focusing and her mouth hung open at an awkward angle as it tried to take in the gulps of air that she needed, and to top it all off there was the siren in her head wailing,_ SCREAM! SCREAM!_

But Hermione only managed a pathetic squeak before a strong, broad palm clamped over her mouth and the voice was at her ear, hot lips caressing her lobe.

"Shh, shh, pretty," it purred, "we wouldn't want anyone to hear you, now would we?"

Hermione started to wrestle but he was stronger. As she flailed against him, clawing, kicking and scratching at his hands, he merely gave her a strong decisive pull that knocked her off balance before slamming her, chest first, into the bookshelves.

Somewhere along the lines, she had dropped the heavy copy of _Ministries Meanings', Methods' and Measures'_ and her toe now thwacked painfully against it as she writhed.

The presence behind her didn't seem at all affected by her struggle, seemingly more interested in the taste of her ear lobe.

Hermione shuddered and worked more frantically against the weight behind her, freezing when she felt a tell tale _something _rubbing against her backside.

"Hmm," the voice purred again, the hand that wasn't on her mouth reaching across her stomach to cup the hipbone there and pull her in further against him. She flailed harder. He moaned.

Hermione's eyes watered in humiliation as she felt him grind into her and after a while she began to cry in earnest.

His fiery lips trailed down the side of her neck, leaving horrible trails as he lapped at her skin. "Mine," he growled, smirking against her neck before opening those lips wide to bite down on the tender flesh of her collarbone.

Hermione cried out from behind his hand and flung her head to the side, flailing madly now in an attempt to escape. She let out a sob as she felt her foot connect with something distinctly wooden and she heard her wand skid away down the isle.

"None of that, pretty," he snarled. "I want to have a look at you. _Excaecavit Praedam!_"

Something black ascended onto her vision and immediately, Hermione was blind.

She yelped and the figure used her surprise to turn her around roughly to face him. She heard him groan as his hips pressed to hers, something hard pressing against the crease of her thighs as he bent down to her level.

Then all of a sudden he pulled back, gripping her collar and pulling her off her feet, before shoving her back against the shelves.

And then there was silence.

Hermione immediately stopped crying, immediately stopped flailing, listening only to the sound of his easy breathing.

She felt his breath on her face as he leant in close. "Have you learnt?" he said in a silky voice.

Silence.

"Have you learnt," he said again, "what happens," his lips were a breeze over the skin on her throat, "when you don't obey your master?"

Silence.

His teeth parted teasingly over her windpipe. "Have you had a _taste,_" he whispered, "of what I will do to you the next time you disobey me?"

Hermione's quivered as his breath ran down to her shoulder.

"Have you _learnt?_"

Silence.

Slowly, she nodded.

His lips parted over her neck and Hermione whimpered as he sunk his teeth, luxuriously slowly, into her neck until the skin sliced and the blood ran in hot torrents over his teeth.

Slowly he pulled back, bringing forth another whimper.

"Good," he breezed in a faint tone, and Hermione felt his hot tongue run over the slick heat on her neck.

He hung onto her for a few more seconds, as if waiting, waiting to hear something, before, with a quick, forceful, whisper of "keep the bite," he disappeared. Quite literally dissolving into nothingness so suddenly that Hermione, who had been suspended a foot off the floor by his hand, came crashing down to land with a thud by the Torture Chair.

Silence.

That's all there was as she lay whimpering there, blinded, in a mess of sweat, blood and tears.

Her heart pounded in her chest like a mantra, as if reminding her that it was there. That she was alive.

But she didn't hear it, really.

She was too busy rocking herself against the wooden floors, watching, with thickly hazed eyes, as her sense of security skipped away from her. Laughing and screeching as it left – the only sound announcing its departure being the faint _click_ as the library door swung on its hinges.

* * *

><p><em>yayayaya! dooooone!<em>

_it is a little short but it's meant to be because it's a bonus chapter so..._

_i really hope you enjoyed it! and yes T.S.P is a little sadistic though i prefer to think of him as just _really _predatory - especially towards Hermione._

_Please if you've never reviewed before just make an exception just this once because this has been an important chapter for me._

_if all reviews go well i might consider moving from writing romance to horror (NOT IN FANFICTION, I'M JUST SAYING IN GENERAL). this isn't even horror, what i just wrote, i didn't mean it to be horror, but if it gave you the shivers then i know that i have the capability to step up the volume in my private work._

_PLEASE LET ME KNO! especially you guys edwardsoneandonlylove and PinkMusicalCherry - i'm counting on you ;)_

_ok ok! lemme go!_

_luuuvv you alllll!_

R.


	24. Ch24: Lux, Screams and Underwear

**I own everything... haha just kidding.**

HI EVERYONE! sorry for the wait but i've been in italy - with my family - tanning my cheeks (the ones on my face because i forgot to turn over!). i know i know, there's no place like home (ENGLAND WOOOHOOOOO!) but then again this is my Grampas house so it IS my home! YYAYAYAYAY!

but i miss my cat... Jack Daniels... B) - i'm not joking he's actually called that and he is a cat! sorry i'm just a little over happy that i managed to write this all in one day! YAYAYAY!

angry readers: well why didn't you do it sooner if you could write everything in one day you alcoholic, sod!

me: O.O ... because i've been tanning my cheeks... B)

i actually hate the sea so i'm not really bragging here...

anyway here's some more DRAMIONE LOVE!

i'm just joking they're not loving yet other wise you would loe ME too much! ;)

ENJOY MY IMAGINAAAAATION!

* * *

><p>Harry Potter was staring at the Marauder's Map with the tip of his lit wand pointed at it accusingly.<p>

"Malfoy, Malfoy, Malfoy," he murmured, under his breathe as he searched, lifting up the flaps of the map to double check on Peeves and keeping an eye out for Snape at the same time. _He's up to something, I know it,_ Harry's inner voice chanted. He knew it was stupid and masochistic of him, but sometimes he liked to think it was his father, James, or even Sirius's voice that spoke to him through it.

Harry shook his head as if to clear it and glared at the Map some more. "Come on, come on," he growled, "where are you, ferret?"

And then he saw him.

But there had to be a mistake.

Harry blinked, rubbed his eyes with the sleeve that encased the hand that held his wand, sending the Map into darkness for a few seconds, and looked again.

No his eyes weren't tricking him. Malfoy was there all right but there was somebody else with him.

Harry squinted, pressing his wand closer to the pair. "_Hermione?_" he said, incredulously.

And then he heard a scream.

* * *

><p>"<em>Lux<em>," Hermione whispered, performing just that little bit of wandless magic she had learnt for herself.

It was a spell of her own creation that she'd learnt for the times that she might not have her wand on her. After weeks of internal debating on _what_ the spell should do, she had decided that, in times of distress, the most important thing was for her to get her bearings, and sight immediately sprang to mind for those times where gaining access to her wand would be impossible.

Slowly, the black faded and the wooden floors of the Library isles came into view in front of her nose. And there, as well, was the leg of her newly formed Torture Chair for her stalker. It seemed it was her job to take it safely out of the Library.

After scrambling around for a few minutes, with her arm, shoulder deep, under the bookshelf, Hermione walked cautiously up to the newly chain-decorated Library chair, her dust covered wand grasped firmly in her grip.

"_Reducio_," she whispered and watched the chair shrink down to the size of a ping-pong ball. _Table Tennis_, corrected a quote from _Francis Cassavant_, the main character of one of her favourite books, _Heroes_.

Hermione nodded, smiling just a little despite the situation, "Table Tennis," she repeated.

She sobered very suddenly, and tears sprung to her eyes. The bite had begun to ache.

Sighing, she pocketed the chair and headed out of the Library, making sure to lock it against the profanities of the night.

Something iron hard wrapped around her upper arm just as she was twirling her wand in front of the lock.

"I believe you have something that belongs to me," an eerily familiar voice breathed.

But this time, Hermione was prepared. She let out a screech like an angry banshee and spun around to face her attacker – with a force and suddenness that sent his hand flying off of her – shouting the first spell that came to mind.

"_Rictusempr-_" she started but was cut off.

"_Stop!" _her attacker bellowed and, to her immense surprise, she did.

Hermione grunted, and tried to move but found herself frozen to the spot, just as the voice started ranting again. Hermione's eyes widened. _I know that voice!_

"What in Merlin's hairy balls did you do that for, Granger?" it snarled, "jeez I knew you didn't have a sense of humour but you'd think you'd at least try to keep it cool and not _attack _me! Oh and you can _move_ now," it growled, "mind you I don't think that's a good idea though. _Lumos,_"

Hermione gasped, not really listening to his rant, "_Malfoy?_"

"_Yes_ Malfoy, you crazy witch!" the blond growled, "who do you think would come and find you in the middle of the bloody night?"

Hermione raised her wand at him, "_I'm _a crazy witch? You're the one who came out of the bloody _darkness_ and decided to _attack _the smartest witch of your age, you arsehole! What did you _think_ was going to happen? That I would immediately fall to your feet and say 'all hail _Draco-bloody-Malfoy!_ You called for me _Master_'?"

Malfoy snorted, waving his lit wand dismissively, "oh yes, smartest witch of my age my arse! What are you going to do, oh magical wand, hit me with another _tickling _spell-?"

"Well _excuse me_," Hermione yelled, using her wand like a scolding finger, "for not being open to a few more _useful _curses! What would you have done, oh wise one? Thrown in a couple Unforgivables against what was most probably _another Hogwarts students?_"

They started shouting simultaneously, their voices growing to an un-understandable babble until a loud shout of "_enough!_", said by neither of them, silenced them both.

A brunette head and a blond head, shot up to see a very ruffled-but-determined looking Boy Who Lived standing, with his wand pointed directly at Malfoy's chest, in the corridor that lead to the Library, a rather large-looking piece of parchment sticking out of his back pocket and some sort of cloak hanging out of his school one.

"Hermione, are you alright?" Harry asked, eyes trained, unblinkingly, on Malfoy.

Hermione sighed, crossing her hands over her chest. "Yes, Harry, I'm fine,"

His eyes flickered, uncertainly to hers, "I heard a scream-"

Hermione shook her head, cutting him off, "Malfoy decided it would be funny to scare me. Don't worry, I'm fine,"

"You heard the Mudblood, _Potter_," Malfoy jeered, – which, Hermione admitted, stung just a little – striding over to stand nose-to-nose with Harry, "she's fine. Now why don't you float off to you boyfriend, Weasel-breath, and leave us alone to discuss our _projects!_"

Harry let out a half snarl, turned tomato red and stepped back to allow room to raise his wand at the blonde's face.

"Harry don't," Hermione said calmly, despite the fact that her eyes were just slightly damp and red and her hands were trembling at her side. "It's not worth it," she turned to Malfoy, teeth gritted tight, "Malfoy, as for you, I'll see you tomorrow afternoon, after lessons, in Slughorn's Potion's Room for the Drought of Living Death. Now leave," she added harshly.

Malfoy, smirked at Harry as he walked past him, "see you Potter," he said in a light tone.

Harry watched him go with suspicious eyes before exhaling through his nose and turning to his best friend.

Hermione waited. Waited to see suspicious eyes – that she knew would come eventually in this situation, after all Harry and Ron weren't _stupid_ – towards her and not Malfoy.

But Harry just turned to her and asked, "you sure you're all right?"

It seemed their suspicion had been forgotten, at least for the moment. Hermione nodded, feeling a little numb. "Yeah, fine," she sniffed, rubbing at the tears starting to leak down her face. "He just scared me," her voice broke.

Wordlessly, Harry came over to pull her into a hug, "shh,"

"He called me a Mudblood," she whimpered, letting go.

"I know," Harry whispered, "I know,"

She stood there, in his arms, and cried. Cried for all the shakes and scares that had happened. For all the fear from Malfoy and T.S.P.

It had been too much for one night.

* * *

><p>"Thanks Harry," she whispered as they reached the Gryffindor Common Room.<p>

He nodded, eyelids visibly heavy.

Hermione smiled, gave him a swift hug and headed up into the girl's dorm.

And froze.

There on the bed was the grubby old rucksack that had been given to her in the first letter from T.S.P. She remembered the night clearly for it had been the first time that stupid Hawk had attacked her. But that time the cuts hadn't stayed.

_Must have been a recent idea for the bastard, _Hermione thought absently, still focussing on the rucksack that had, until this night, been under her bed.

There was the bag and, folded underneath it, the tent that had been requested in the second letter but on top was a foreign object. A piece of folded parchment.

_Another letter, _she thought in despair but as she walked closer to her bed something else caught her attention. Her trunk, the heavy old thing she had taken from her loft to carry all of her stuff from home to Hogwarts, had been pulled out from under the bed as well, and was lying, top rested against the bed frame, across the floor.

Stumbling, Hermione fell beside it, running her hands over her clothes, socks, bras and underwear in a frenzy to see what had been taken, _if _something had been taken because–

Hermione froze.

She counted.

Counted again.

And again.

She had brought 15 sets.

But including the ones she wore…

There were only 14.

Fighting the urge to scream and vomit at the same time, Hermione slammed her trunk shut, reached up and snatched the letter on top of the rucksack, nearly ripping it in her haste, and read.

Hermione shuddered, gaping, reread, and shuddered again. He had been in her room, on her bed, _in her trunk_.

_Thanks for the souvenir…_

She shuddered again, not quite understanding how in God's name to take it all.

He had taken it from her trunk. She blushed at the very thought of it and shuddered again. And again.

_He had taken her underwear._

_Thanks for the souvenir._

_X_

_T.S.P._

* * *

><p><em>ta da! i hope you enjoyed it. hopefully more will be coming soooooooooooooon!<em>

_i've got loads of ideas for things to come but i might not write about T.S.P. for a while (MAYBE) because i want to focus on the Dramione love for a bit. this is just a maybe - i might find another opportunity for our favourite stalker in the next ones but for the moment he might not be so present. but don't worry... he'll be back B). muhahahahahah!_

_ok ok i have to go  
><em>

_REVIEW PLEASE I NEED AN EGO BOOST! ;) ;)!_

__R.


	25. Ch25: Blood, Salazar and Disgust

**Ur demented if u think i made up these people!** )

HELLOOOOO EVERYBODY!

i've noticed recently that my chapters have all been quite short (1,000 words roughly) so i made an effort to make this one a LITTLE longer. i won't lie - i had inteded to make this "long chapter" a little longer than this even but after i reread it i got the impression that it started to get a little boring if i included the next bit as well - you know a little draggy :-S.

anyway this is another thanks to **Andreaa** ("who reviewed as a guest right? or is my email system wrong?") who left me a really nice review that - again - had me jumping to my keyboard just that much faster (repitition huh?).

"Hey Andreaa! Thanks for the Review! I squeeled when i read it! YES! omg i thought i was the only creap that found his actions _endeering! _Is it just me in wishing that for guy i might fancy in future to get that physical with me? AM I A FREAK!? ;)"

i also thank LyricxLove11 ("oh _please _don't die on _my _account! ;)"), edwardsoneandonlylove ("_such freak!_"), twilight expertess ("somebody _really_ stole your underwear?! OMG! IT WAS T.S.P! ahahhaha! lol jks!") and the countless other people that i owe most of my chapters to! U GUYS ARE MY INSPIRATION!

ok ok i've talked too much!

read my children, READ! ;)

**LISTENING TO PAYPHONE BY MAROON 5! IS IT JUST ME OR DOES IT MAKE YOU WANT TO DACE ALL DAY LOOOOOOOOOOOOONG! WOOOOHOOOOO!**

* * *

><p>The next day was uncomfortable. Thursday was draft-y and, though not <em>cold<em>, had the kind of breeze that had you shuddering somewhere just under your skin.

Hermione, who hadn't worn her tights despite the promising grey of the morning, found herself fumbling for her wand under the table whilst biting back shudders and trying to focus on what Professor Sinistra was saying.

She didn't need to really; she got the basic idea of what was happening by the groans the class was emitting. Their Professor was setting another observational homework.

Hermione rubbed her neck – she had fallen asleep curled on the floor the night before – and groaned internally as well, really wishing against being on the Astronomy Tower on such a chilly day.

"Now, now lets not be _rude_," Professor Sinistra quipped, scowling at those particular students that seemed to be groaning louder than the others. "I want to see you all on the Tower tonight, _without fail_,"

The brunette's fingers were numb, with a slight shade of blue, and her wand was just slipping around in them. She hissed when it begun to fall and she only just caught it.

"But Professor!" somebody – Hermione was too busy trying not to drop her wand to notice who – yelled, "there's Quidditch practice tonight!"

"I shall accept late-comers and late-goers – keys will be handed over to the most reliable of those who will stay and are to be handed back to myself _responsibly_ the next morning. Other than that I cannot do much for your _Quidditch practice_, Mr Potter," Professor Sinistra said with a certain finality that Hermione knew not to question.

Seamus, however, didn't seem to get it, "but Professor - he's right - please, they can't afford to lose or we'll come-"

"_Mister_ Finnigan!" the Professor's nostrils flared, her anger upsetting her pointed hat and turning her sharp cheeks pink, "A future job will not _care _how many games of _Quidditch _you have won or if you _got_ _the House Cup _so I suggest you both refocus your _priorities!_"

Hermione looked up a second, knowing that Professor Sinistra liked to stare down the whole class after an intimidation, afraid she would see her with her wand out, and saw Seamus's ears go a shade of beetroot red.

"S-sorry Professor," he stuttered, lowering his head, to which the other students snickered.

Hermione rolled her eyes, performed a Hot-Air Charm on herself from under the table and returned her attention back to the board where a piece of chalk was drawing a perfect diagram of the Solar System.

But her mind was elsewhere.

_Hermione sat, eyes long since lost the red, puffiness you got from crying as she stared, shakily at the note from T.S.P._

_She had shoved the backpack – a cruel reminder that there was more to come – and her trunk back under the bed and had fallen asleep in a sitting position on the floor, the last note clutched tightly in her lap, only to be awoken by the loud screech of his Hawk at her window._

_Hermione had let it in and immediately petrified it – for precaution – deeming it safe, only then, to remove the letter from its long, black claws – "no doubt coated by Anti-Healing venom, you sick bastard!" – and to throw it out the window. She had very, very nearly _not _taken off the spell, much preferring the idea of the disgusting animal not returning to its twisted owner._

_Then she had looked down at the letter, no parcel, in her lap._

A parcel? _She thought, _he's never given me a _parcel!_

_It was long, and in the shape of a cylinder, thinning out at one end whilst the other was as thick as her arm. The parchment wrapped around it was a thin, washed-out grey-brown colour, with a piece of white string, tied into a bow holding it all together. There was a piece of rectangular paper sticking out under it, which read:_

Regarding my previous letter,

X

_It wasn't signed but they both knew she wouldn't need one for her to recognise him._

_Hermione's brow furrowed. His previous letter? What about his previous letter? It had just been an impatient note telling her to hurry up hadn't it? What was this about?_

_Biting her lip she pulled the string, wondering, wondering if she really wanted to know what was under that pale parchment wrapping…_

"_Well, well, the Mudblood in her rightful place," a dark voice whispered in her ear, "how… interesting,"_

_Hermione squeaked, jumped about a foot in the air and brought the package around with her as she turned, unintentionally, but usefully, swinging it at her stalker who surprised her by catching it mid swing._

_Her eyes locked onto his as they widened.  
><em>

"Malfoy?_" she gasped._

_But there was something in his eyes, unfazed by the package-weapon – for lack of a better word – about three inches from his face._

_Hermione started to tremble. And then she started to get angry._

"_Oh for the love of _Merlin, _Malfoy, _again?_" she yelled, oblivious, in her infuriated state, of how close he was or of the way his eyes, intense and stormy grey, were flickering just slightly in the direction of her lips… "_Seriously?"_ she continued, "you wanted to do that _again?" _the sound of fabric moving on itself came from Ginny's bed and immediately Hermione pulled her wand out,_ _"and are you absolutely _crazy? _I _share _this dorm remember?_ Muffliato!_"_

_Malfoy, who still seemed in his own head before, suddenly smirked, the self-satisfied, leaving Hermione to gape. What was _up _with his _mood swings?!

_He was still too close, holding the crinkling package away from his face. "What?" he asked, using that baby tone to mock her, "did I scare the ickle little Mudblood?"_

_Hermione's eyes watered and she looked away angrily to wipe them, therefore not noticing Malfoy's own wince at the word._

_The expression was gone when she looked back._

"_What in Godric's name do you want now, Malfoy?" she hissed, jerking her mail away from his face and shoving it under her bed as quickly as possible. Thankfully he didn't seem to think the object of any importance – probably because she hadn't bashed his face in with it after all – and stepped away from her to sprawl out his lanky body over her bed._

_Hermione scowled at him, shaking away that quiet voice that said he'd fit quite nicely there if he weren't wearing all of those Slytherin green robes…_

"_Malfoy," she snarled, grinding her teeth together as her eyes locked with his grey ones through his blond eyelashes. "What do you _want?_"_

_The ferret rolled his eyes and slipped his large hands under his head. "You have something of mine that I'd like returned," he slurred, wagging an eyebrow, suggestively._

_Hermione wavered, wondering what he was talking about, and feeling as if she was already wound tightly enough without him here. "And _what_," she snarled quietly, trying very hard to breath in slowly, "might that be?"_

_Malfoy smirked. "My bag," he said bluntly._

_Hermione blinked. "I don't _have _your bag," she said immediately, getting angry and suspicious._

_The blond sat up, "oh but you do, Granger. You took it away from me that time I said Mudbloods should be used as sluts," – his eyes ran over her possessively and Hermione shuddered, – "an idea to which I still stand by, by the way – don't you remember?"_

_She glared at him, deciding to ignore his quip about muggleborns, "don't you think I would have noticed if I suddenly had _two _bags?"_

_Malfoy rolled his eyes, "I'm not a moron, pet,"_

_Hermione's nostrils flared, "I'm not your _'pet'_," she spat._

_He waggled his eyebrow again, "oh but you are," he seemed to sober at her disgusted look and continued. "Either way, what I mean by not being a moron is that I put down some – let's say – precautions in the event that my bag be taken from me against my will,"_

_She blinked, coming to the logical conclusion, "I can't see it,"_

_Malfoy looked smug, "exactly,"_

_Hermione rolled her eyes, "enough with the dramatics, Malfoy – _Objectum Manifestiam_,"_

_The bag materialised in the space between the wall and the wardrobe where all of her daily clothes were hung. She reached over, snatched it by the strap and walked over to him, trying not to look surprised when she found him standing, and smug when she saw him frowning._

_In an attempt to intimidate him, she guessed, she only stopped walking when she was inches from him, half expecting him to step back, and held the bag up at his shoulder level._

_He didn't step back however, and now they stood at, probably, the closest they'd ever been, breathing out the same air onto each other's lips and cheeks._

"_Is this all you'd wanted?" she'd intended to sound challenging but the sudden molten grey his eyes had become was something of a distraction and the question came out as a breathy whisper._

_Malfoy leaned in slowly and Hermione froze, eyes widening as those orbs came closer and closer and for one single, dazed moment, she thought he was going to kiss her._

_His hand came forward wrapping around the two pieces of leather that were his bags straps, his index finger tickling the underside of her hand. Gently, he pulled it from her grip and whispered, so softly and quietly that the hairs on her arms stood up, one word that made her knees turn to jelly. "Almost,"_

_His eyes flickered to her lips for the shortest of instants and her breath caught._

_But before she could react he had turned, bag still hanging from his fist and left the room with a quiet _shh _as the door swung shut._

_Hermione blinked, frozen by surprise, then spun around and fell to her knees, hands raking desperately over the carpet under her bed for her parcel – Malfoy, momentarily, forgotten. She felt the parchment with the tips of her fingers and yanked it out, finally taking the aged packaging off to see what was inside._

_Hermione blinked, her mouth falling open._

_It was a baseball bat._

_Covered in blood._

Almost as if to mock her way of _paying attention_, the bell rang signalling the end of her Astronomy class.

Startled, and still half in her memory, Hermione flicked her wand, sending all of her utensils skidding into her bag and rose from her seat in time to hear her Professor summarise their need to know.

"On the Tower at midnight tonight to document the movements of Pluto – late-comers and late-goers will need to come and see me at the end of the class so I can give them the appropriate instructions and see the candidates for the Keys. Those who need to see me, come see me now, otherwise," she sent two sharp looks at Seamus and Harry, "class dismissed,"

* * *

><p>He had wanted to kiss her.<p>

By Salazar he had wanted to kiss her _so _badly.

Leaning into his seat in his Charms class, head resting on the wooden back of his chair and eyes held firmly shut against the insistent squeaking issuing from their tiny Professor, all Draco could think about was the delicate pink shape of Granger's lips, tilted just slightly up toward him. He had a thousand snapshots in his head of himself leaning down to kiss her, to hold her, of him pulling his bag from within her small grip and dropping it to the floor. Of her slipping her hands around his neck and into his hair to kiss him harder. Of him pulling her down to the floor or on to her bed whilst exploring her neck and biting her pulse-line to hear her moan his name... It was maddening.

Draco groaned, long and low pressing the heels of his hands to his eyes, wishing he could apply enough pressure to his head to just _push her out_. He couldn't go on like this, with images of somebody he should _not _be having images about causing the blood to pound to his head, temples and a certain _other _part of his body he _really _didn't want to deal with right then.

"Draco," Blaise, sitting tucked under his desk with his quill scribbling his notes down on parchment, leant sideways to give him a light shove on the leg. "Draco, come on man, pay attention," he ground out, shoving his right ankle off of his left knee.

Draco, who was starting to get really irritated at about everything, straightened and just growled at him, gritting his teeth. "Stop acting like a Granger," he muttered, picking up his quill, writing down the name of a charm at random from Blaise's work and tossing it back down on the table again. He looked up pointedly, "happy?"

But Blaise had a disgusted look curling at his lips, "just shut your mouth and take notes, Malfoy," he sneered.

Sighing, and knowing that if he pissed Blaise off there was going to be no one else to copy from, he placed his wrist on the table and begun to write in large, lazy loops.

They spent a half hour in long, stiff silence before Blaise spoke again.

"I can't believe you compared me to that filthy Mudblood," he sneered.

Blaise was made mostly of those. Sneers and jokes. Hot and cold. Sometimes both. But rarely.

Draco's nostrils flared at the word, and his hand became tight on his quill. He did not hate it for what it meant – how could he? He used it all the time – but hated it for the way it had made Granger turn away from him. He had felt the longing even then, his face so close to hers and her lips so close to his. And…

Draco's eyebrows furrowed a second and he frowned. What had that thing she'd almost hit him with, been?

"What is it _Draco?_" Blaise hissed, baring his teeth at his blond friend, "do you think I should be a Mudblood too? Is that it? _Do you think I'm not worthy of being a pureblood, Malfoy?_"

Draco's face twisted in disgust and rage at his words, "I have never heard a more absurd accusation, Zabini. I'd watch your tongue if I were you or you could lose a valuable acquaintance," his eyes were hard, and threatening glinting with meaning behind them.

They stared at each other in that same heated way for a few minutes, hours, days, until Blaise's eyes suddenly tightened, turning into slits and twin smirks appeared on both the boy's faces.

Yes, Blaise was hot and cold, sneers and jokes. But so was Draco.

They both returned to their note-taking for another fifteen minutes before Blaise spoke again, lips curling down at the sides again.

"I still can't believe it," he muttered.

Draco snickered at his friend's discomfort.

"You don't understand Drake. That girl's a pill. A real pill. I spent one night up on the Astronomy Tower with her and I got enough _Granger _to last me a lifetime," Blaise was looking forward again and so missed the sudden change in Draco's posture and expression.

Living with his father in a pureblood setting, under the rule of someone who had been under the rule of the Dark Lord himself, had taught Draco a couple things. The first was that, in the Manor, you didn't make your opinions known unless you were asked to. And second, – pretty much a how-to to the first – it was best not to show what was really going on in your head.

"Come again?" Draco's voice was completely blank, and light. His posture had changed from laid back, to straight in his chair but not unnatural, more like a student making attentive notes that one just scribbling the odd word. There was something churning in his stomach, his snake, come back to spew venom at his insides and turn him green.

Blaise sent him a short look, something, confusion probably – Draco couldn't see as his eyes were fixated, blankly on the board – sparking in his eyes. "What? That she's a pill? I thought you already knew that, Drake, you have her for Potions _and _Defence?" he snorted, then, "You pour soul!"

Draco swallowed, hard, eyes still locked on the board. "No I mean about the Astronomy Tower. You spent a night with her?"

Blaise groaned, "don't remind me! The most horrible night of my life!"

The blond went suddenly stiff. What he said next surprised him to the tenth degree, "You're not shagging her, are you?"

And even worse was the jealousy that rose like bile or vomit from his stomach. _What is wrong with me?_

"_What?!_" Blaise hissed suddenly, "are you _crazy?_"

Draco saw his friend's honesty and realised, very suddenly, in how much of a dangerous territory he was stepping in. He amended quickly, "because that would be disgusting," he made himself look disgusted, "even if it was just a lowly fuck,"

Blaise made a retching sound, "fuck _yes, _it would be disgusting!" he turned away from his friend, shaking his head.

"But you don't like her, do you?" Draco asked again, needing, for some reason, to be sure.

The pureblood gave him an expression of horror. "Salazar, Malfoy! You really wish me ill!" and then he turned back to his notes, still looking a little pale.

But, despite the fact that Blaise had been his friend since the beginning of Hogwarts, despite the fact that he had never lied to him before, Draco wasn't convinced.

* * *

><p>Hermione tapped her foot, most impatiently.<p>

Was it possible that he was _always _late?

"_Waste _of _my life!_" she muttered sourly, crossing her arms and grinding her teeth.

"Now, now, surely it's not a _complete _waste of your life?" his voice drawled, making her jump and sending her hand, reflexively, to her wand. There was a snort, "What, Granger? Going to _tickle _me again?"

Hermione sighed, using that hand to pick up her bag by her feet instead, and muttered, "shut up, Malfoy. How about _I_ attack _you_ sometime?"

The blond grinned, striding toward her and waggling his eyebrow in that ever-suggestive way. "Oh, by all means, please do,"

Hermione made a disgusted sound and turned away to cover up the blush that came with the thought of jumping him. She wanted to tell him, all of a sudden, how much she wanted to – just to play his game, naturally – but stopped herself. Best not to play with dangerous situations.

Instead, she said, "come on, you great ferret. Let's get this over with,"

Hermione half-thought he was going to chide her that she should not call her _Master _a ferret and that she had to do something horrid to make up for it.

But instead he spoke; with a smirk so bold she could see it even with her back turned, just as she pushed open the door.

"As you wish, my pet,"

* * *

><p><em>tah-dah! WELL DONE Andreaa FOR GUESSING WHAT DRACO HAD COME TO TAKE BACK FROM HER! i'm so proud *blows nose* ;)!<em>

_well... did you like it!?_

_I sure hope you did..._

_IM AT A PAYPHONE TRYING TO CALL HOME - ALL OF MY CHANGE I PENT ON YOU!_

_**I LOVE MAROON 5! REVIEW IF YOU AGREEE (OR DISAGREE! -** cnt spell, not sure if that is right!)!_

_ok well let me know what you think! i should be updating soon - if not i appologise :(_

_**I CONVINCED MY MUM WHO HAS NEVER LIKED HARRY POTTER TO WATCH THEM AND GUESS WHAT... SHE LIKES THEM! YAYAYAYYAYAYAYYAYYAY! ON SUNDAY (i'm at dad's now) WE WILL BE WATCHING HALF BLOOD PRINCE! SO LOTS OF DRACOOOOOO! WOOOOOOOHHOOOOOOOO!**_

_ok... i'm i little hyper now so i best leave before i write more words in the A/N than in the actual story and get you REALLY pissed at me..._

_bye!_

Keep and eye out this full moon

R.


	26. Ch26: Jealousy, Looks and Mudbloods

**As much as I love these people… I didn't invent them. B(.**

HEY PEOPLE! It's been so long! I want to apologise for the wait and apologise some more for the chapter.

Remember when I said that the last one wasn't that long because this next bit was a little draggy and boring? Well I was right! It was completely _boring _and _uninspirational! _Not a real word I know but it describes it well enough.

I had a hard time with this one – editing, changing my mind etc – but despite that I want to put it up just how it is (crap) as a filler chapter. To get the ball rolling, you know?

Reviews would be nice just as a "go on! You can do it!" chant.

… Please? (o.o)

anyways I would like to thank:

**LyricxLove11** for announcing your lethal addiction to my story! It made me very happy despite the mention of death lol.

**edwardsoneandonlylove** for your lovely way of reviewing.

**Andreaa** for your giddiness

And

**twilight expertess** (and I apologise for the many messages and stalking moments I have presented to you!) for your theory-sharing ways and your *put awesome word here* way of making me want things that I have planned to come to life!

These are just a _few _of the people I thank for all of this and yet again I apologise for the shitty chapter! I hope you like the curious ending at least…

"Ooh Black waters white stones just _what_ were you implying with that last comment there?"

muhahahaha well you'll just have to find ooouuuut!

Enjoy.

* * *

><p>They pushed open the door and walked in hurriedly just in time to see Weasel and Brown, oblivious to the cauldron in front of them spewing smoke like an angry chimney, jump apart from each other and look nervously at the door.<p>

It was obvious what they had been doing.

"Hermione!" the redhead yelped.

"Ron!" Granger scowled, sounding halfway between angry and exasperated. Quick as a flash, she sent a spell at the bubbling cauldron, which immediately piped down and turned stale.

Draco saw his chance and seized it. "Well, well," he smirked, trying to contain laughter, "it looks like the common weasel has reached its mating season after all!"

"Shut up, Malfoy," Weasel muttered, barely audible over the dying hiss of his ruined potion, face almost completely red. Vaguely, Draco realised that there was something… _off _about the way Freckle-face was staring at him – his eyes slightly narrowed as if examining him – but the blond shook it off. If he had a dime for every time he got a strange look – especially from dunderhead _Weasley _– he'd be… richer.

He was snapped back out of his thoughts by Brown's giggle, a horrible sound, and her movement to hide behind her boyfriend, "I'd say you were _jealous_, Malfoy!"

Draco felt the vomit rise in his throat, "_jealous?_" he snorted. "Of _him?_ Sorry but I don't fancy snogging a pig, such as yourself, if that's what you mean,"

Brown went a bright shade of angry red to match her partner and looked about to say something when Granger broke in.

"Malfoy," she warned, "behave,"

But even from there Draco could see the slight gleam in her eye that indicated she was enjoying this as much as he was.

_Granger has something against Brown, _he mused. _Interesting… _then a thought hit him. _She's not _jealous _of that little whore, is she?_

"You shut your mouth Malfoy or I'll-"

Draco looked up to see Weasel-breath pointing a wand at him.

But again Granger interrupted.

"Ron," she said, sounding confused all of a sudden. "What are you doing out of hospital anyway?"

"Hospital?" Draco raised an eyebrow. He looked closer and sure enough the top of Weasel's head was wrapped in a thick bandage that slanted over his left eyebrow. Something didn't seem quite right with the slope of his skull there. "Somebody sent you to hospital, Weasel?" He pretended to look horrified, "damn! I can't believe I _missed _it!"

"Again," the redhead fumed, that damned look, intensifying, "shut up, Malfoy,"

"_Again_," Draco countered, "stop being a moron, Weasel-Bee. _Oh wait!_ You can't help yourself, can you?"

Weasley took a step forward, and Draco followed suit but a small hand on the crease of his elbow stopped him.

"Stop it! The both of you!" Granger scolded, "honestly! It's like babysitting my neighbour's toddlers again!"

Draco, had he been in his right mind, would have found a suitable, scything retort, but instead he stood there, transfixed by the image of Granger's pale, fragile little fingers shining like a beacon against the black of his jumper.

And then she removed them and Draco was left in a daze, thinking the same thought over and over again: _what in Salazar's name is wrong with me?_

"Oh don't look so disgusted, Malfoy," Granger growled, and it took him a moment to realise that she was talking to him. But before he could do anything she had turned back to the Weasel and his whore. "Ron, you still didn't tell me why you got out of the Hospital,"

Weasel-Bee's eyes flickered from glaring at him to watching Granger in a more calm way, and stayed there for a few moments – a gesture that had that damned snake rising up in Draco's core again – before he answered. "Madam Pomfrey let me out to do my Potions. I told her I wanted to be an Auror and that this potion was fifty percent of my final grade so she let me go out on Lav here's close watch,"

"Yes," Granger looked a bit put off, "she was definitely watching you _closely…"_

Draco made a sound in the back of his throat, really not liking that flustered look of the brunettes face, and muttered under his breath whilst crossing his arms over his chest; "honestly, how _disgusting,_"

"Shut up," the redhead muttered at the same time that his whore said in an obnoxious tone, "I still think somebody's _jealous…_"

Draco felt his anger light. He really did not like this girl. "What part of 'I would not go sniffing about your shaggy mane if I there was a airborne disease that was killing me, cell-by-cell, and kissing that bottomless pit, you call a mouth there, was my only antidote against a slow, horrible death,' do you not understand?"

Brown's nose wrinkled as she sneered, "'shaggy mane'?" she tossed her head, "I think your getting me confused with your little _Potions partner, _there,"

"I'm right here!" said partner, yelled.

"You've got yourself a mouthy one haven't you, Weasel," he snarled, and then he caught his Granger's surprised look and panicked. Draco threw on a smirk, pretending to have fooled them all, and sent a once-over Brown's way, "I like that,"

She grinned smugly at him and he cursed himself internally. _Great. Now I've got _her _to deal with too._

Draco, pretending to be oblivious to the other surprised looks he was getting, and then sent a disgusted look at Granger beside him, "come on Book-breath, _you_ have a potion to brew,"

By the look she gave him? He was in trouble.

_And _damn,_ do I have a talent for those looks!_

* * *

><p>He was a jerk. A damned<em> jerk!<em>

But then, she already knew that, didn't she?

"See?" Hermione heard Lavender say to Ron as she and her blond _jackass _partner headed towards the empty cauldron in the far corner. "Told you he was jealous!"

Hermione wanted to punch her in the face and yell at her that he could never be jealous of Ron just for the _tone _she said it with. The girl was such a _bitch! _And just for that _nobody _would ever like her. Hermione felt like screaming it at her.

"Got your knickers in a twist, Granger?" Malfoy sounded irritated, "oh wait – they were already like that weren't they?"

"You're such a jackass," she muttered.

Malfoy made an irritated sound. "I don't have time for this," he growled.

"'_Book-breath_'?" she glared at him, "_Seriously? _ I'm stuck with you for a _whole month_ andat the start of it all you call me _Book-breath__?_"

"What can I say?" he shrugged, "my honesty never sleeps,"

Hermione's nostrils flared as she sent a sharp spell that had fire under their cauldron and water fizzing up from it in great steams in mere seconds. He could really work her up!

The fog rising up was so tall that, mercifully, Ron and Lavender didn't see when she was suddenly pushed back unto the desk by the blond and, shortly after, encased by his broad arms with his hot breath tickling down her throat.

For a fleeting second she wondered on how safe it felt and how his soft jumper made the embrace really quite cosy…

Then she snapped out of it.

"Malfoy, what-?"

"Don't be jealous, my pet," he breathed, snickering softly against her neck, crushing her on the spot to stop her squirming. "No other girl could get in the way of the _big plans _I have in store for y-"

Malfoy stopped suddenly and her first thought was that they'd been seen – that Ron had looked up and somehow seen them through tall mist coming from the cauldron. His whole body stiffened, his arms tightened so much, so fast that Hermione's breathing was choked off before she could even register what was happening. She panicked, the feeling rising from her chest as all of the events from the previous night came back. The Library – the dark – the complete and utter terror of the moment came back as his grip tightened suffocating on her body.

And then, just as she started to flail, the horrible feeling of falling backwards hit her right in the gut. Before she could blink she had landed hard on the floor in the isle between the back desks.

Malfoy stood over her with eyes like molten silver and a stormy expression. His teeth were bared, his nostrils flared and his hands were balled into white-knuckled fists clutching twin strips of material that Hermione, quickly realised, had been ripped out of her thin school jumper's sides – she had removed her cloak before coming to their meeting.

Hermione had never seen him so angry.

Her mark – the one that branded her as 'his' – was burning so sharply in her Master's rage that it brought tears to her eyes and had her clutching the scald to her heaving chest.

Malfoy stood there for half a second, just fuming, looking ready to breath fire before striding forward, bending over so that his left knee hovered inches off of the floor between her thighs, so his right foot was pressed into her waist and so his face breathed millimetres from hers.

He glared at her with an expression so terrifyingly angry that she shrunk back on herself just looking at it.

"_You can do this potion on your own, you filthy little Mudblood!_" he shouted, the sound, so loud, ringing in her ears, before straightening up and shoving past her, his knee hitting her left shoulder so hard that she buckled and collapsed onto the floor clutching it, watching him through watery eyes as he stormed out of the classroom.

* * *

><p><em>Again this is just to get the story going forward instead of being stationary but I hope you didn't find it that awful! <em>

_And what could Draco possibly be mad about...? It's probably really obvious but I just wanted to rile you up there._

_Review me your thoughts!_

Keep an eye out this full moon,

R.


	27. Ch27: Ire, Epiphanies and Plans

**i own nothing at all.**

HEY GUYS! IIII'MMMM BAAAAAAAAAAAAACK!

sooo how've ya been?

ok ok sorry for the wait but i had a LOT planned for this one - as you may have noticed by the amount of words! i know it's long and i know it's not too good that way but i had planned for this chapter to end the way it did and i just didn't care how many words i'd have to put down to get there.

I hope you enjoy it! and i hope it answers... _some _questions... muhahahah.

* * *

><p>There was a beat of silence where everything stood still.<p>

Ron and Lavender, who had been elbows deep in the process of cleaning their cauldron, stood with their mouth's hanging open, eyes wide and glued to the door where Malfoy had last been visible, wrenching the wooden door open so hard that it wailed against it's hinges before slamming it shut behind him in a motion so quick, she'd blinked and missed it.

And then everything happened at once.

Lavender and Ron rushed towards her, knocking over desk chairs and cauldrons alike in their rush.

"_Hermione!_" Ron yelped crouching beside her on the floor at the same time that Lavender sniffed out a slightly-bitter-but-better-than-usual, "are you ok?"

Hermione took two consecutive deep breaths, clearing the tears from her eyes, before nodding shakily. She was still sprawled across the floor and her shoulder had begun to throb under her hand. She whimpered, turning scarlet by the sheer childishness of it all.

Ron turned red and turned to scowl at the door, "that _bastard!_"

"Yes, yes, he's a bastard – now help me Ronald," growled Lavender, elbowing him in the gut before slipping her arms under Hermione's upper half.

Ron faltered, looked down at the two and mumbled, "oh. Yeah,"

It took ten minutes to haul Hermione into a sitting position – giving that she kept wailing every time somebody so much as brushed her shoulder – and another ten to get her to her feet.

By the end of it, she was crying. "I-I-I think I m-might have dis-dislocated it," she whimpered again, feeling her stomach roll at the slight angle her shoulder was hanging at.

"We need to get you to the Hospital Wing," Lavender sighed, irritably, batting at her frizzed up hair and then at the drop of sweat that had formed on her brow.

Granger sure was heavy when she wanted to be.

"What is his _problem?!_" Ron yelled as they exited the classroom, seemingly unable to let it go.

"It's Malfoy, Ron," Hermione gasped, "I-I'm his problem, r-remember?"

It was the truth, but Hermione didn't believe it.

Malfoy was an asshole all right, but he wasn't a beast. He didn't just blow over like _that _for no reason.

She hadn't done anything to trigger him. Yet he'd dislocated her shoulder in his rage.

Hermione shook her head slightly, thinking about the bigger picture through the haze of pain.

_No, _she thought, _I don't buy it,_

They rounded a corner and were suddenly at the Hospital Wing. Lavender and Ron shouted something at Madam Pomfrey about her passing out several times on the way over but Hermione's vision was already coating over.

The last thing she thought before she fell into blackness was a suspicious phrase that made her stomach churn.

_Something's up._

* * *

><p>The figure was mad. Seething.<p>

He watched, from his post over the Hospital wing, as the Weasley boy and the Brown girl carried her – his property – into the large-windowed room, and he fought not to scream. Brown didn't matter too much. It was Weasley he wanted on a platter.

How dare that blood traitor touch her?! How dare anyone touch what was his – and only his – to touch?!

The git stumbled forward, holding her bridal style, as she seemed to have fainted in the little time he'd left to rush to his vantage point by the window. He couldn't suppress the growl he emitted, and immediately chided himself when the lone first year scrambled away from him.

The figure sent her a glare, earning another fast motion away from him.

He didn't bother with it too much. A first year was the least of his problems.

His glare returned to Weasley, and, with a vengeance that could kill small animals, he flicked his wand under his cloak. Immediately, the redhead tripped, dropped Granger to the floor – where her head hit the marble with sickening impact – and was yelled at simultaneously by the two women in the room.

He watched, leaning heavily into the edge of the window as they faffed around, his eyes only on her as they misted over to remember what had happened in the Library.

He shuddered and moistened his lips without realizing it.

_He had been so close…_

His face hardened.

He'd been so close… to losing control.

This was bad – very bad. He was loosing it. Spinning away from the self-control that had been his salvation.

The figure glared, eyebrows tight and slightly damp from perspiration. It seemed that Madam Pomfrey had decided to gently help the Mudblood out of her clothes before attempting to fix her shoulder.

The figure groaned loudly, too lost to stop himself pushing against the frame one last time in his arousal before jerking away entirely and disappearing into the darkness with one thought in mind.

He needed release.

* * *

><p><em>"Have you learnt," he said again, "what happens," his lips were a breeze over the skin on her throat, "when you don't obey your master?"<em>

_Silence._

Hermione whimpered and rolled over in the light sheets. They really were useless – like the kind of sheets you got in Hotels when on holiday in tropical places – not at all like the ones at home.

_His lips parted teasingly over her windpipe. "Have you had a__taste," he whispered, "of what I will do to you the next time you disobey me?"_

She shuddered, twisting and turning in jerky movements as she begun to sweat.

She felt uncomfortable in her skin. Like she didn't _belong_ in it.

Like it wasn't _hers _to posses.

_Hermione's quivered as his breath ran down to her shoulder._

_"Have you __learnt?"_

Hermione shook her head vigorously, too scared to concentrate – too scared to think anything apart from the desperate sound that was her plea for it all to be over.

"Answer me!_" he yelled, his voice taking on a booming characteristic._

"No," she whimpered, shaking madly.

"_How dare you defy me?" he hissed, "_Hermione._"_

_But his lips were already parted over her neck and Hermione whimpered as he sunk his teeth, luxuriously slowly, into her neck until the skin sliced and the blood ran in hot torrents over his teeth._

"No," she wailed, "_no!_"

_His words echoed in her head even as his mouth was occupied._

"_How dare you defy me, _Hermione?!_"_

"No! No! No!" she screamed.

"Hermione?"

"_How dare you defy-?"_

"Hermione?! Hermione!" someone – not the voice she had just been hearing – yelled.

"_Keep the bite,"_

_She could feel the blood running down her neck…._

And then it was gone.

"Hermione wake up! Madam Pomfrey stop! It's hurting her!"

"Oh _calm down_ Miss Weasley!" Madam Pomfrey's voice scolded.

Hermione opened her eyes.

She was in the Hospital Wing – in one of the sterile blue beds. Madam Pomfrey was indeed standing over her, a vial labeled _Flesh Replacement _balanced in one hand and a cream-smeared blue tissue in the other.

She blinked several times and Ginny's head came into focus behind the nurse, flanked by an annoyed-looking Lavender.

"But-" Ginny stuttered.

"No buts!" Madam Pomfrey scolded again, putting the cream on the bedside and disposing of the tissue with a quick flick of her wand. "The potion does not hurt," she said sternly, when Ginny looked about to talk again, "it's all done now,"

"But she was–" Ginny gestured to Hermione, noticed she was awake and scrambled over. "Hermione! Are you ok? Does something hurt? What happ–?"

"_Miss _Weasley!" Madam Pomfrey bustled, "I would thank you not to aggravate my patient!"

"But Madam Pomfrey-!" Ginny started.

"I have other students here trying to rest as well!" the nurse cut in. Ginny took a breath but was, once again, interrupted, "_Therefore _if you wish to ask any questions they will be asked quietly and at a pace that does not disturb Miss Granger – or _me _for that matter – _after _said patient is released! Is that alright with you Miss Weasley?" she said sharply.

Ginny let out a soft growl, eyes narrow, before turning tail and walking off.

Madam Pomfrey stared after her then sent a look at Lavender. "Miss Brown?"

Lavender looked at her as if she had interrupted a very important train of thought. "Hmm? Oh – yeah, ok – whatever. Bye Ronald,"

Hermione watched her leave then shifted to prop herself up on her elbows.

The nurse sighed. "Now you take it easy, Miss Granger," she said turned and headed towards the isolated room to the left. "I'll be in my office," she called back as she walked through the square arch into her private rooms. Hermione saw her flick her wand before the office doors slammed shut.

_Man she is not in a good mood, is she?_

"You alright?"

Hermione jumped and looked around to see Ron, lying in the adjacent bed, glaring at her from under the bandage over his left brow.

"Ron!" she yelped, clutching her heart. For a minute she'd thought she'd heard… no. Impossible.

"Oh _I'm _sorry," he muttered, giving her an odd look. "Did I scare you? Well my bad! Let me just let you get back to your _taking it easy! _I bet you need it after an evening with_ Malfoy. _That's why you were acting all _funny _with him before isn't it?"

The brunette blinked, eyebrows furrowing. "What are you-?"

He cut her off. "Tell me Hermione – was it _worth_ it? Was it _worth_ going off with your mate's enemy for the night?"

"Ron w-what are you talking about?"

"Really?" he growled, "_really? _You're going to _play dumb?_"

Hermione was speechless. "Ron, I don't-"

"Fine! Keep at it!" he yelled suddenly, turning around with angry, jerky movements, so that his back was to her in the cot. "It doesn't matter anyway! You do what you want – it's not like we _care!_"

There was silence for a while.

"Ron?"

No response.

She felt anger grow in her. "_Ron?!_"

No response.

"Fine!" she yelled, copying his motion to face away from him. "I'll just ask Ginny later,"

"Yeah you do that," she heard him mutter but she ignored it, focussing instead on what she could have possibly done to offend him.

It seemed like she was doing everything wrong that day. And she could not figure out, for the life of her why that was.

_Look at the positive side, Hermione! _She thought sarcastically, _now you've got _two _assholes to deal with!_

* * *

><p><strong>A few hours later;<strong>

The sound of the final bell – the one that signalled the end of the extra credit classes – was still ringing in his ears as George shoved through the seemingly _endless _crowd of shorter people around him, growling as he did. He felt like a salmon caught in the tide, trying to make his way home.

He frowned at the metaphor and its pity-inspiring nature. God knew the last thing he needed was pity in this whole deal.

Hagrid had decided that as a punishment for his latest stunt – a little scenario involving the _continue _of the _to be continued _situation with Head Girl/ex-girlfriend Avery Baliss that took place on the cold floor of the Forbidden Forest – was a whole night in the same forest napping with the Skrewts and trying to not get fried.

George grinned at the memory of Avery coming to 'watch him' work with the Skrewts. It had been obvious what she had wanted and sure enough, when they went looking for the Skrewt she _swore _she had seen run off into the Forest in the middle of his vigil, she'd jumped him and taken him down a vortex of scratches, scrapes and heavy breathing which had been – sadly – interrupted part way through.

George shuddered at the memory of looking up from Avery's cleavage, in the height of his pleasure, to see Snape hanging over him and Hagrid – obviously having called the black git to do the dirty work – facing the other way on the fringe line of the Forest.

Man, Snape's face was _not _the thing you wanted to see when in that situation. Especially when you had reached that height where there was no possible way of backing out.

A third year was knocked into the redhead's path by the crowd and therefore pushed rather angrily aside by the lone Weasley twin.

George had allowed his own self-satisfaction to distract him for a second but as he walked his true purpose came back to mind.

Sweat begun to form on his brow as he anxiously clutched the small square of parchment in his pocket. Something didn't quite add up and – if he was right in what he had presumed – something very serious was afoot. Had it not involved him so directly maybe he would have just let it be – figuring it was somebody else's problem to deal with.

But it did involve him – and those he held close – directly, so he did intend to deal with it. But first things first.

George needed to confirm his initial assumption. And in order to do this he had to storm against the current of shorter students whilst fretting about his task and the uncertainty of it all. But one thing was for sure.

He had to find Hermione.

* * *

><p>"Hermione!" a deep voice called after her.<p>

She ignored it. Honestly if Ronald thought he could just walk back up to her after his behaviour in the Hospital Wing without a hitch then he was _severely _delusional.

"Hermione! Hermione, wait!" the voice was closer but before she could quicken her pace a large hand grasped her upper arm and roughly pulled her out of the strong stream of students in the corridor.

"If you _honestly _think that you can just–oh!" she started but was cut off by the noticeable difference in height and features that distinguished the person standing in front of her as _not Ronald_.

"You really like ignoring me, don't you?"

"George." she stated.

"Yes, George," he smiled, "didn't you hear me call you?"

Hermione snapped out of her stupor. "Oh! Yeah – sorry I thought you were-"

"Sorry Hermy – you can tell me later but for now – I need to talk to you," he said, pulling her across the human current and into an empty classroom.

"George what's wrong?" she asked to his back as he peeped round the door before shutting it. "George?"

Without a word he turned, grasped one of her small hands with one of his big ones and placed up a crinkled ball of parchment into her palm.

Hermione gave him a curious look and begun to unravel the paper. Her blood ran cold as she did.

She recognised it.

_My patience is wearing thin._

_Punishments are due to those who won't obey._

_Won't you obey, my sweet?_

_Be seeing you._

_X_

_T.S.P_

Her hands begun to shake as her eyes flickered up to George's.

Hermione felt her cheeks go pale and begun to nervously tuck her various strands of hair behind her ears. Her pulse was deafening in her head and her palms started to get clammy. _What do I do now? What do I do now!_

"What does it mean?" he asked bluntly.

"George I-" she started but then stopped. Why did she have to tell him? It didn't concern him! At all! She told him that.

"Ok fine," he gave up immediately – as if that wasn't the real issue. "Turn it over,"

She gave him a confused look. _Turn it over?_

He looked up from her hands long enough to notice her confusion, before looking back down and turning it over for her.

To her shock, there was another message on the back – something she had missed in the hurry to escape the redhead's room. Her stomach dropped as she read it.

_P.S._

_How's the patient?_

_I told you I'd find him,_

_Sweet dreams,_

_X_

"Explain," said George fixing her with an intense gaze.

Hermione blinked. She didn't get it.

And then, suddenly, she did.

* * *

><p><strong>The night before;<strong>

_It was long, and in the shape of a cylinder, thinning out at one end whilst the other was as thick as her arm. The parchment wrapped around it was a thin, washed-out grey-brown colour, with a piece of white string, tied into a bow holding it all together. There was a piece of rectangular paper sticking out under it, which read:_

Regarding my previous letter,

X

_She felt the parchment with the tips of her fingers and yanked it out, finally taking the aged packaging off to see what was inside._

_Hermione blinked, her mouth falling open._

_It was a baseball bat._

_Covered in blood._

* * *

><p><strong>A few weeks prior;<strong>

_Do this and think of your dear friend Ronald Weasley_

_Think of how I could kill him so easily_

_For he is unguarded tonight_

_Hiding under a cloak removed from sight_

_Do you understand?_

_For muddy footprints he leaves behind_

_And that is how Ronald Weasley I will find_

_Now sit there, frightened, pending on every breath_

_For tonight you will dream of Ronald Weasley's death_

_Sweat dreams_

_X_

_T.S.P_

* * *

><p><strong>Present;<strong>

_No,_ she thought. _Oh no. No._

The obvious suddenly hit her in the face.

_I can't believe I didn't see it!_

_T.S.P was responsible for Ron being in the Hospital Wing!_

And if T.S.P was responsible… that meant…

* * *

><p>Before he could say anything else, Hermione gasped, and begun to cry, great big tears falling from her eyes. "Oh no!" she wailed, "It's my fault! It's my fault!"<p>

He reached for her, grasping her small wrists with his larger hands. She was so small. A part of him didn't want to push her. But the other needed answers. "Hermione?" George whispered urgently. "Hermione, what does it mean?" he shook her gently. "Does it mean what I think it means?"

Hermione continued to cry, and wail; "I didn't listen and now-now… he… it's all my fault!"

"Hermione," George whispered. She calmed down at his softer tone and George breathed an internal sigh of relief. "Did," he hesitated, "did it mean-?" then changed his mind. "What's going on?" he murmured. "Hermione…" he hesitated again before saying the next bit. What if she said yes? "Does this letter refer to Ron?"

There was silence.

She didn't move or say anything and George was really stuck on how to take it. Did that mean yes?

As the seconds ticket by the twin opted to talk first. "Hermione," he growled, "if it is… if it is you _have _to tell me! I'm his family. I have to protect him!" he begun to get angry at her lack of response. He opened his mouth but she cut in, finally saying something.

"I don't know George," she said dully. "All I know is that there are a number of I've seen hurt in the last few days and it-it might just be all my fault!" she paused as a sob erupted from her chest. "But no," she whispered, "I don't think its Ron, the letter is referring to,"

George was really starting to get angry, "but that still doesn't tell me why you received this letter Hermy!" he yelled. "I mean – who _is _this person? Why have they sent you this letter all of a sudden?" he came to stand right in front of her, "why has he sent you this?" then a thought occurred to him, "is this the same person that chased you in the Library?" his face hardened, "is it Malfoy?"

"I don't know, George!" she yelled all of a sudden. "Look I have to go now ok?" she dropped her hands so that he could see her face, "I have a potion to brew and a potions _partner _to yell at for dislocating my shoulder!"

George felt fire grow in his stomach. "He did _what?_"

The brunette's eye's widened. "N-Nothing!" she said, "nothing! It doesn't matter! It-it was an accident!" she picked up her bag and walked passed him to the door. "Either way I need to go. We'll finish this another time ok?" she muttered before disappearing into the corridor.

"Hermione?" he yelled, "Hermione wait!" Immediately he went after her pushing the door shut behind him as he did. What part of _if you hurt her I will hurt you_ did Malfoy not understand from their last encounter? He couldn't believe the bastard had _dislocated her shoulder_. He must have heard her wrong. Surely Malfoy wasn't that_ stupid?_

"Hermione stop!" he yelled, grasping her shoulders and turning her around. "You can't expect me t-"

George would have continued but at that very moment someone shoved into his chest very hard and punched him in the face.

* * *

><p>Draco was furious.<p>

Granger. He would make her pay. How dare she go behind his back? She was so going to get it. Oh she was going to get it all right.

But that came later. Right now what he needed was somebody to vent on. That and Pansy. God knew he needed Pansy right now.

He'd just bumped into Granger and it hadn't been pretty. He snarled as he remembered.

_Draco turned, pointed his wand at the dummy and yelled; "Incendio!"_

_Immediately the dummy burst into flames and begun wheeling around the Room of Requirement like an escaped bandit._

"_Ascendio! Confringo!" he yelled, his voice wavering from the soreness of his vocal cords._

_He was completely drenched in his own sweat. His white, button up school shirt had gone transparent where it stuck to his back and his platinum hair looked like molten silver, melting over his face. His eyes had gone from a mildly cloudy day to a hurricane stuck in a windstorm and his stare could kill baby dears._

_He was still fuming. His whole body vibrated with suppressed ire._

_Without another look at the disintegrated dummy lying in a burning heap on the floor, Draco opened the door into the fourth floor – he had asked the room to let him out there – with his wand and was greeted by a tide of students, crashing into him like an angry swarm of bees._

_Draco scanned the faces and heads, looking for Pansy. His hormones were all over the place and he desperately needed an angry, ravenous fuck in any of the selected broom closets lined up against the corridor walls to take care of it._

_A fifth year bumped into him in his haste to get out of the way and Draco completely lost it. His shaking, balled up fists came up to hit him square in the chest with a force that sent him spiralling backwards into the rest of the student body._

"_Dude!" the guy with the dreadlocks that was holding up the wheezing fifth year exclaimed, shaking his shaggy head as Draco walked by. "Not cool, man!"_

_Draco snarled, shoving past the two and glaring at the kid in the dreads._

_His whole body begun to shake as he walked. He couldn't get Granger out of his head._

_He needed Pansy._

_Just as he thought that another kid jostled him._

_He was about to strike out when he heard a familiar voice._

"_Hermione stop!" the voice yelled up ahead._

_The Slytherin looked up, fear spiking in his chest. It was Weasel twin… holding a tear stricken Granger by the shoulders._

_It was all too much. His jealousy spiked up, his pupils dilated over his irises like great black moons and his pulse roared in his ears._

_Draco exploded. His snake rose in his chest, ready to strike as he sprinted over like an angry bull, knocking people out of the way as he did._

_The Weasel said something but Draco didn't hear it instead he focused all his energy into his shoulder as he shoved it against the redhead's torso before rearing back and hitting him in the jaw with all the power his arms could muster._

Draco rounded a corner and saw his prize.

Pansy was standing by the doorframe of her extra credit Arithmancy class – she'd had to take it because her grades were so abysmal – and leaning into a smirking Blaise, fiddling with his collar with one hand and running the other over his abs.

The blond grumbled under his breath and picked up his pace. Knowing those two, if he didn't get there fast enough, they'd be shacking up against the wall right in front of everyone any second now. Draco couldn't have that. Not today.

"Pansy!" he barked, gripping the strap of his back with white-knuckled force. His blood was running hot and his pants were rather tight. Despite everything, the site of something he could fuck in the near future was an immediate turn on.

_Too bad, Blaise, _he thought, heatedly. _She's mine today._

Pansy turned to face him at the sound of his voice. "Draco!" she smiled coyly, running forward to greet him, leaving, a now frowning Blaise, to cross his arms and raise an eyebrow at the blond.

The Slytherin stormed over and pressed himself against the House Whore as she hugged him, growling in her ear, too lost to care that this was Pansy – disgusting, piggy Pansy who hadn't been a virgin since she'd stepped foot into Hogwarts – he was holding onto.

Draco was smart enough to do this only when he was horny beyond belief – otherwise it would never happen. Pansy was easy. And Draco found those that were easy beneath him – his toys for him to play with when there was no way of getting new ones in the near future.

He pulled her aside, and into the next corridor, ignoring the frowns he was getting from Zabini. "Pans," he growled in her ear.

"Oh my!" his toy breathed into his neck, rotating her hips against Draco's, making him groan. She wasn't the number one Slytherin toy for nothing – he'd give her that. "Is someone in _need _of a little help?" she purred, pulling back to wink at him. The Slytherin didn't miss the punctuation on that word and he didn't like it. He didn't _need _anybody.

_Need. _Such a stupid word. And yet he was finding himself using it more and more lately.

He let the issue drop and yanked open a closet door, shoving the whore in. He snarled as he did, hating that stupid giggle she made as she stumbled. In less than a second he had her pressed against one corner and making out viciously as he ground into her.

Granger quickly became the last thing on his mind.

* * *

><p>Later, as they both collapsed onto the closet's floor, Draco was relieved to feel no emotional attachment towards the Gryffindor Prude left in his system. Quick shags really were the answer to everything.<p>

He looked down at the Slytherin beside him – immediately prideful at the sight of her half passed out on the floor – and leant down to lick the shell of her ear.

"Wanna hear something nice, Pans?" he baited, chuckling when her eyes snapped immediately to him. He only ever said that when he had juicy information to share. Draco ignored her eyes and focused on the shell of her ear for a few moments before breathing. "Spread this as far as it will go,"

She started to natter as soon as the sinful rumour-to-be left his mouth, and he smirked, thinking of Granger – his slave for a month. _This is going to be fun._

His eyes shone with plans as he murmured, "let the games begin,"

* * *

><p><em>Soooooo? What'd'ya'think?! $ %&amp;<em>

_i know i got a little graphic when describing George's little "adventure" in the forest - is everyone ok with that?_

_also how was the "epiphany" moment when Hermione realises what's happened? PLEASE tell me if you thought it was suckish. I really need to know now! Being a mystery story i have to use "epiphany" moments a lot and i need to know if i'm doing it right! Please?_

_ok ok i gtg!_

_ R&R please (I know what it means now! i've been meaning to thank you guys for that!)_

_loooooove_

R.


	28. Ch28: Snickers, Paper and Mahogany Desks

__Hey guys. i know it's been a heck of a long time so this is what happened to me, in a nut shell:

-decided to write some chapters (2 or 3) in advance so i'd have them ready

-got a new computer

-was super happy

-backed up my chapters onto USB

-lost all of my new chapters (and some of old) from freak USB accident - can't describe it! too gory!

-cried

-felt sorry for myself

-lost will to write

-lost will to live

-recovered slightly

-tried to write

-wallowed in self pity some more

-tried again

-re-wrote chapter

-feeling vulnerable

-uploading

so... yeah. anyhow i don't expect you to re-read or anything, just to keep following me and reviewing and helping me move it along. especially reviewing because guys:

_**I NEED YOUR HELP!**__**READ BELLOW PLEASE:**_

Hermione needs some things to do as a consequence to the bet being won by Draco and i have no clue what to do! all i have is laundry... and that's lame. so please please please **R&R** for me! i'm BEGGING!

you guys have been my inspiration since the beginning and i've been loving every comment! _please _there _has _to be something - anything! no matter how extreme as long as it makes sense for Draco to ask for it - that you guys want to see written down!

i would be very thankful for any help you can give and i _will_ use your suggestions. the only reason i wouldn't use you're idea is if it really can't be used because it doesn't fit with certain aspects of the plot that need to be maintained.

otherwise suggest what you like.

please? i really need help.

anyway here's the story (in Balamory na na na na na-na...! ... sorry o.o):

* * *

><p><em>She started to natter as soon as the sinful rumour left his mouth, and he smirked, thinking of Granger – his slave for a month. This is going to be fun.<em>

_His eyes shone with plans as he murmured, "let the games begin,"_

* * *

><p>It had been about a day since they'd had that encounter in the corridor and Hermione had not seen Malfoy since.<p>

They hadn't had a class together and it was too soon to say if he was actually skiving, so Hermione was not sure if he had been avoiding just her or school all together.

Either way she had a really good guess that his absence was due to her. Whatever she had done or said to offend him it seemed like the whole of Slytherin knew it. People whispered when she passed in the corridors and giggled when she looked after them.

The girls weren't the problem. Some of them snickered and nodded at her with hidden meaning – did they, perhaps, dislike Malfoy and therefore liked that she had annoyed him so much? – whilst others snarled and muttered words like _Mudblood _and _whore_ under their breaths as if she was the most disgusting thing to walk this planet. The girls weren't the problem.

It was the boys – or rather the _guys _– that disturbed her the most. What exactly had Malfoy said about her?

Whatever it was, it was slowly driving Hermione crazy.

They'd walk up to her in packs and cat call right in her ear, nudging her and bumping her as they walked past. And of course their ringleaders took the biggest advance. She'd had the horror of accidentally dropping one of her books on the way to one of her class and had been bending down to pick it up when the loud cat callers rounded the corner. Theodore Nott had quickly taken the queue to reach over to briefly smack one of her arse whilst another yelled, "_that's right, baby, bend right over for me!_"

As a result, Hermione was slowly starting to fear corridors.

But regardless she needed to get to Malfoy for their Patronus Practice. Whether he wanted to admit to it or not the practice was something he was going to have to do himself.

Hermione shook her head and growled under her breath, "unlike the _last _time!"

Because of his _mysterious disappearance _Hermione had had to do the previous homework by herself. Sure, Ron and Lavender had helped her out with the Potions and kept her company with a few minor points in her research for the Patronus essay, but really there was only so much Ron and Lavender could do to actually contribute to either of the subjects.

To top it all off, Madam Pomfrey had forced her to wear a simple bandage around her shoulder and arm to keep it from moving too much. She'd said that the muscle relaxing potion she'd used before popping her shoulder back in was the only one the school had and it was a pretty long term one too, so it was important she keep her arm still, lest the shoulder pop right out of its socket again.

Both of these factors contributed to the horrible mood Hermione was finding herself in as she glared at the blackboard in her Arithmancy class.

But she had to admit that not _all _of her anger was directed at Malfoy. Her friends hadn't exactly been nice. Ron had been shooting nasty comments about sleeping around at her ever since that night in the Hospital, Harry had been sending her confused looks that suggested he was trying to figure something out and Ginny just kept biting her lip and looking guilty.

It really did seem that Hermione's only friends at the moment were Luna and Neville and even they were acting a little different. Sure it had been Malfoy who had started the Slytherin's assault on her but she was more upset about her friend's reactions to it.

Whatever it was, she wanted it cleared and she wanted it cleared quickly.

"-It is very important to consider the way the numbers are laid out," Professor Vector's even voice pulled Hermione out of her reverie, "and to use the same technique when writing your predictions in the chart you will be compiling. For example-"

"_Psst!_" someone hissed behind her. "_Psst! _Granger! _Psst!_"

Hermione groaned internally, recognising the voice calling her name. She turned her head slightly towards the back to glare at the caller.

Theodore Nott was sitting in the perfectly composed attentive student at his desk, three rows behind her to the right, a small, arrogant smirk twisting the corners of his lips as he sang her name quietly under his breath. "_Grane-ger!_" he sang, winking at her – the motion just a tiny one that barely used up any of his carefully composed facial features – and licking his lips just barely. He had a smug expression that told her that he thought that he was in perfect control of the situation. His desk mate, however, couldn't seem to control his snickers a fact that – quite sincerely – _irked _her.

Hermione sent Nott a glare and then turned back in her seat just in time to see Professor Vector's hawkish eyes narrow down on her, looking quite flustered to be interrupted. "Anything to share, Miss Granger?"

"No Professor, sorry Professor," she amended quickly, shaking her head vigorously.

As the Professor turned back to the board and resumed her lecture Hermione sent Nott a quick glare, just over her shoulder and through a couple of strands of hair – barely moving so as to not attract attention.

Hardly a minute passed before the Slytherin started up again.

"Grane-ger." The sound of his voice hummed against her nerves, accompanied by the idiotic snickering of the guy sitting next to him. "Granger!"

_Snicker._

She tried her best to ignore him.

"_Grane-ger!_"

_Snicker._

She tried-

"_Granger!_"

_Snicker._

-her best-

"_Grane-ger!_"

_Snicker._

-to _ignore_-

_Snicker. Snicker._

"_Granger!_"

_Snicker._

-him-

_Snicker. Snicker._

"_Graaaaane-geeeer!_"

_Snicker. Snicker. Snicker._

Hermione turned in her seat and snapped; "Shut up!"

"Miss Granger!" Professor Vector was suddenly the only voice she could hear as she reacted at Hermione's outburst. " I appreciate that you were ill but I would have thought that after missing our time in the Library as a class – _yet again! – _you would at least _try _to pay attention!" she bit out sharply, referring to yet another class study group she had missed when she was ill before. "So since you seem to have so much to say to Mr Nott, why don't you foretell our Life Value, for Jane Sims?"

"Miss," Nott drawled politely, slightly raising an eyebrow by two fractions and using the most charming-student voice you could ever hear. "I hardly think that's fair," he paused as if for effect, looking as if he had the world's biggest upper hand. "After all, it's Granger that seems to really want to talk to _me_,"

Hermione fumed inside. _I hate him, I hate him, I hate him, I hate him, _I hate him! _He's just so… _arrogant!

"I shall not tolerate speaking out of turn, Mr Nott!" Professor Vector snapped and then turned to Hermione, "Miss Granger?" she quipped and then added with malice, "if you'd like?"

Professor Vector obviously intended to put Hermione's indisputable reputation of knowing the answer to things into question. In the Agrippan Method of Arithmancy the Greek letters are appropriated into English and then put into a grid where they are assigned the numbers 1-9. To foretell a person's Social/Life Value you'd have to find all of the numbers for the consonants in a person's name (in this case 1, 5, 1, 4 and 1). For their Heart Value you'd add up the vowels and for their Character Value you'd add up both the vowels and the consonants.

There is another method called the Chaldean Method, where the numbers are 1-8 instead of 1-9 and the letters are assembled differently, but Professor Vector insisted that those calculations were for the following year, not this one.

Of course Hermione had already learned all she needed to know from the Chaldean Method from the book Harry had given her for Christmas: _New Theory of Numerology._

Back in the classroom Hermione's eyes stayed on the grid on the board, but in reality they were quickly sorting the numbers into the right groups and adding the right ones up. It didn't take long. Less than two seconds later she blurted out; "the Life Value is 12, Professor,"

She double-checked quickly, afraid that she might have gotten caught up in the excitement and accidentally added up the vowels instead, and relaxed immediately.

"Correct," Professor Vector snapped, as if it were the wrong answer, "but I won't take kindly to another interruption, Miss Granger,"

_I wouldn't take kindly to another interruption either, Professor, but it seems like it isn't in our hands today, _she thought bitterly.

Hermione slumped in her chair for a moment before sending a death glare at Nott who was smirking in his seat whilst his classmate poked him repeatedly in the ribs with his knuckles as he tried not to howl.

_Stupid, bloody Nott and his stupid bloody friend!_ He'd nearly gotten her into trouble in her favourite lesson!

Ten minutes later Hermione had managed to drift off again only to be brought back by a light tap on her ankle. Startled, she looked down to see what looked to be a paper lizard flicking a forked tongue rapidly against the skin just above her white school socks. The sight would have surprised her, had she not already seen a similar stunt performed by Malfoy and Parkinson in the Dark Arts class where her partnership nightmare had begun.

As it turned out this way of communicating in class through paper animals was becoming quite popular but so far the Slytherins' were the only ones ballsy enough she'd seen actually using them.

Hermione heard a quiet snicker and looked up to see Nott leaning back onto the back legs of his chair, flicking his tongue back and forth over his lips – _ever so slightly _– just like the lizard, in, what she now understood to be, a suggestive way.

Hermione made a disgusted sound in the back of her throat and kicked the lizard half way across the room with the heel of her shoe before turning back to concentrate on what was being written on the board.

This proved to be a futile effort however, since less than half a minute later she became aware of another paper message on her leg – this time in the shape of a great, ugly spider. Maybe a tarantula?

Growling under her breath she snatched it up and quickly yelped when its sharply folded pincers caught her index finger. _Stupid Nott and his stupid messages!_

"Miss _Granger!"_ Professor Vector snapped. "Did I not make myself _clear!?_"

The spider found this an appropriate time to start flailing and squealing out from between her fingers.

"Yes Professor," Hermione grunted quietly, forcing herself to smile at the teacher. "I was just using this-" she folded her hands over the wriggling, biting spider and leant on it. "New spell I heard about that-" she flattening it to the desk, to stop it from moving, snatched up her quill and stabbed it once through her fingers. "That is meant to incinerate notes that aren't needed anymore-" the spider gave off a high pitched, fading _kuaaah_ and fell silent. "Y-you see I wrote some completely irregular notes and this spell incinerates the pieces of parchment which I don't need. It's very useful especially if-" she was cut off by the burning glare she got from Professor Vector.  
>People began to snicker behind her at her fib – not that she was lying, there <em>was <em>a spell to incinerate stuff but it wasn't _new _– but not just the Slytherins anymore. Some of the Hufflepuffs were giggling too.

"The spell just wasn't working, Miss," Hermione finished dully; pressing down just a little harder to make sure the spider was well and truly _squished._

She heard the quiet huffs of laughter from Nott's jerk companion behind her and pushed down harder still, her whole demeanour hard-lipped and cold.

Professor Vector scowled at her. "Then I suggest making those adjustments quietly, Miss Granger. Or do you think that the far corner of the classroom would be a better idea to make you less disruptive?"

Hermione swallowed and shook her head.

"I thought not," she seemed pleased with herself.

Nott snickered again behind her.

With an angry glare, Hermione pulled the spider out from beneath her fingertips – noticing, as she did, that it really couldn't be called a _spider _anymore – and was about to return it, quite violently, to the sender when he held up a white _muggle _ring-bound notebook – whilst keeping his laid back position in his chair – with scrawled – _yet elegant, _Hermione conceded begrudgingly – with words written on it in bold, black ink.

_It will only come back to you._

Hermione hesitated and Nott waggled his eyebrows at her and dropping the little notebook back on the table, with a quiet _snap_, as she did.

The brunette groaned, turned carefully back in her seat – so as to not alert the Arithmancy Professor of her movements – and opened the damned note under her desk, over her lap, secretly wondering what Theodore Nott, Slytherin pureblood _extraordinaire, _was doing with a muggle ring-bound notebook.

She blanched at what she saw and had to repress a loud gasp of disgust. Nott had drawn, what appeared to be, a rather crude image of two people… well, having sex, really, – there wasn't another way she could put it – in an empty classroom. The girl was laying spread eagle on her back on a huge desk – _mahogany? _Hermione wondered despite herself – with her head of curly hair thrown back and the boy was standing upright at her feet. His head was thrown back too, unruly black hair curling at the nape of his neck.

The picture was obviously printed out by a good Arts and Crafts spell – she could see it by the pinprick dots of white all over the drawing – so she didn't have the fact that it was a good drawing to distract herself from the horrible churn of disgust in her stomach.

It was apparent –from his distinct square jaw, that signature black hair and the general profile of his face – that the boy in the picture was Nott and the girl was Hermione. At least an interpretation of Hermione as Nott's head must want her. And a strange interpretation it was. Could this possibly be what Nott liked in his… _babes?_

The girl was skinny – overly skinny – especially at the waste and had long legs and huge thighs – which, _mercifully_, were so big that they covered both the people's… private areas from view. If she concentrated, Hermione could just make out all of the girl's ribs, from the more prominent ones over her stomach to the ones that were less prominent as they disappeared behind the image's too large breasts.

At the top of the parchment were the scrawled words:

_People fucking._

_(Just if I hadn't told you, you wouldn't have known.)_

She was about to point her wand at it, to burn it – anything to get the stupid image out of her face when another phrase appeared as if floating to the surface of a misty pond.

_What? You don't like it?_

_All right, all right!_

_I'll draw the next one with you on top, sounds fair?_

Hermione made a disgusted sound at the back of her throat and scrunched up the parchment and it's obscene contents. She could feel her cheeks catching fire as – in a moment of complete stupidity that she would curse herself for _repeatedly _later – she chucked the ball at the ground near her feet.

Hermione didn't know what her flustered mind had expected would happen after the ball hit the floor. All she knew that the minute it did, hitting the ground with little sound before going skidding into the hallway between her row of desks and Nott's, she emitted a sound of appalled surprise, in the form of a gasp – a split second before she lunged for it.

Like she'd said – she didn't know what she'd expected from the balled up piece of parchment but it still didn't stop her from cursing it with all of her might when, just as she caught the corner of it, Professor Vector's foot came down and pinned the larger part of it to the pavement.

"Professor-!" she exclaimed when she'd recovered half a second later but was cut off by the sound of Nott's buddy's chair scraping the ground loudly and the sound of him bursting into fits of laughter, followed by the _thump _of him hitting the floor, after which he _continued _to laugh.

It was just as well that he interrupted her. It was too late anyway because a nanosecond after he did Professor Vector pulled apart the last of the crumpled parchment and went stark white before turning bright red.

For a few seconds there was a heart wrenching silence before, will a shrill screech, the teacher bellowed one word in a single high frequency – which no doubt sent cats around the world scattering into mad frenzies – that marked the beginning of another Time of Torture for Hermione Jean Granger:

"_DETENTION!_"

* * *

><p><em>hey guys! so did you like it?<em>

_sorry if i repeat the same message but i need to put it here in case somebody somehow managed to scroll past it up there lol (that desperate!)_

_**I NEED YOUR HELP!**__**READ BELLOW PLEASE:**_

Hermione needs some things to do as a consequence to the bet being won by Draco and i have no clue what to do! all i have is laundry... and that's lame. so please please please **R&R** for me! i'm BEGGING!

_ok now that that's over i want to say about the R&Ring thing... no pressure lol_

_and... yeah._

_that's it._

_ok i gotta go sleepy time now (yes i called it sleepy time - now shut up! lol)_

_anyway niiight!_

__R.


	29. Ch29: Pains, Hermits and Lip Gloss

**I disclaim everything ;P**

****Hey guys! omg it's been FOREVER! what like 5 months? i know, i know, i know! u have every right to be mad but hang on a second for me! you won't regret it! I've got some _neewwws _that you might want to knoww!

ok ok:

number 1) **i edited some older chapters** that had mistakes or simply lacked in technique for you guys to have a look at if you'd like! Most of the edits have just been for spelling but i did change quite a lot of Chapter 18 - Nox, Winnings and Light Bulbs, specifically how Hermione has the idea for the Chair, because i thought that the way it had been originally written was a little bit too forced - so have a look at that if you'd like ;D.

and number 2) **i've had like a BILLION epiphanies** since i last wrote about where this story is heading! Up until now i'd just been going with the flow of it, but it was actually this chapter, specifically how i was going to present the character's behaviours, that i had quite a bit of trouble with. and it was thanks to this trouble that i took the time to brainstorm in my little notebook as to what i wanted to happen - and ALAS! now i have an idea of it that's at least _a little bit_ more defined than what i had earlier. :D yay me!

so there you go! that was my set of pathetic almost-excuses for those of you that were interested in the stones under the water...! [- see what i did there? ;D]

Anyhoo, without further ado... ladies and gentle birds! Chapter 29! [which i will shortly be deciding what to name... lol]

enjoy!

**PS - SPECIAL THANKS FOR A FEW SPECIAL PEOPLE ARE AT THE END OF THE CHAPTER SO CHECK THEM OUT! XXX ;D**

* * *

><p>It was hours later that Hermione actually managed to get some privacy. Her arm still hurt like hell, throbbing incessantly in its sling like it was desperate for movement. But Madam Pomfrey had warned her that it would be too risky to begin using it again, no matter how much the muscle burned to be stretched or to be put to some other use then what it was currently in.<p>

Even worse than the burn was the constant, but firm, ache of the bone as it worked to restore the scratched cartilage in her ball-in-socket joint. It felt like thousands of tiny little nerve-endings were going off at the same time, giving her wave after wave of teeth grinding discomfort.

Hermione heard a faint _fsst _sound and looked down to see that her quill had ripped through the parchment paper of her Patronus Essay. She stared at her white knuckled fist for a second before quickly pulling her hand back and dropping the owl-feathered ink pen onto the Library floor in frustration.

_No way Professor Snape's going to appreciate an essay on ripped parchment, _she thought irritably.

Sighing, she snatched up her wand from the table and repaired the tear, her hands trembling slightly from the wavering pain in her shoulder.

She cursed under her breath and let her eyes flicker up to the small cylindrical container pushed to the far left end of the Library desk.

She didn't trust it – not one bit – and she didn't want to use it, despite the jaw-clenching pain that shook her entire frame against the wooden Library chair.

Shuddering slightly, Hermione gritted her teeth tighter together and counted to ten.

It had been no more than 24 hours since the _incident _with Malfoy in the Potions room and she'd had to visit the Hospital Wing _twice_ already because of it.

So far the pain had been pretty constant. Expected. Bearable. Understandable. In fact it was more of a small ache from the numbness of the muscles rather than a full on pain. In general, the brunette had been pretty proud of herself for coping with the pain and without her left arm in use. It wasn't that difficult with the disciplined mind that she had.

It wasn't that difficult, that is, until the evening came.

_Hermione bit her lip, her quill hesitantly poised and pointed to the tips of her pale fingers under the soft fabric of the sling around her left shoulder._

_Gently she pushed the sharp new _Falcon FeatherQuill_'s tip to the pads of her index finger._

_Nothing._

_She licked her lips nervously and adjusted her grip on the thin length. She pushed harder leaving a small, purple indentation._

_Still nothing._

_Finally Hermione pushed hard enough to draw blood before pulling back to examine the smooth skin of her finger._

_There was a small fleck of blood oozing from her skin but other than that, and the small reverberation of pain further up her finger, she'd felt nothing._

_She felt her eyebrows furrow._

"_Why can't I…?" she muttered. _

_It had been a few hours now that Hermione didn't have the sensibility in the tips of her fingers._

Hermione wasn't sure what had happened the night before – it was _later _that Madam Pomfrey had eventually explained that it was normal for the hands to feel numb for a bit during the process because the blood was temporarily leaving her muscles in order to restore them. But that wasn't the problem. What worried her most was that as soon as she'd entered the Hospital Wing to talk to the nurse about the numbness she'd been assaulted by an unimaginable pain in the socked of her shoulder. Mind splitting pain had sent her to her knees, screaming for her mother as she watched through watery eyes as the nurse pulled her into her bed.

It must have only been a few seconds but Hermione was still feeling the side effects from it.

Along with the explanation about the numbness, when she had consulted Madam Pomfrey about the new pain she'd explained that during her lapse – it seemed there would be no answering the question as to _why _it had happened in the first place– her muscles around the pained area had contracted, burning against her scratched cartilage, and leaving them tight and stiff.

It was midnight before she got back to her dorm, and when she did, she'd found on her bedside a small cylindrical container – the likes of which had not ceased to receive her glares of distrust – with a note attached to it scribed with the words:

_For the Torment,_

_T.S.P_

_X_

On further inspection Hermione had found that the container had no label, no instructions as to how many she was allowed to take daily, and that the contents consisted of small, circular white pills with no letters or further indication on them as to what they actually were _for._

_They're probably just pain medication… _Hermione thought good-naturedly but chided herself for it immediately.

_I don't care; I'm not swallowing them._

* * *

><p>"Will you shut <em>up!<em>"

It took her a while but, twenty minutes later the essay was almost done, down to it's last wavering quill strokes and paragraphs. But it seemed that the whole Library was set out to annoy her just as she neared the finish line.

The babble had rose to an intolerable churn and suddenly Hermione had just snapped, and the next thing she knew she was chiding them on their irresponsibility.

"The Library is a place for many things, such as _quiet _and _study, _or even just _reading!_" she growled at the astonished fourth years that now stared at her. "However it certainly _isn't _a place for you to gather your social groups and fill it with all this – this…" she struggled for words, "_riff-raff!_"

The fourth years blanched and blushed a little, the crowd of them thinning out now that Hermione's attention was on them.

"Oh honestly! If I'd only been nominated for Prefect duty, by now, you'd all be in-!"

"'Detention'?" a velvety voice came from behind her and Hermione sat up straight in her chair, very suddenly, almost upsetting her injured shoulder. "Surely that's a little hypocritical coming from you now isn't it, Hermit?"

Hermione turned deathly slowly in her seat, eyes ablaze to glare at the dark haired wizard behind her. "_What,_" she rasped threateningly, "_did you just call me?_"

Theodore Nott was still smiling that small, arrogant smile at the corner of his lips, his eyes turned downwards and his long, black eyelashes throwing shadows on his cheeks, when he came into Hermione's field of vision. "A Hermit," he repeated, "surely-" his gaze flicked up, clear blue irises like broken shards of glass staring lucidly at her through his lashes "-an educationally tuned mind, such as the one your bushy skull neatly encases, would know what a _hermit _is,"

Hermione ground her teeth and glared harder, not quite immune to his arrogance and irritating demeanor just yet. "Yes Nott, I _know _what a hermit _is…_"

But Nott didn't let her continue. Instead, he strode towards her and sat in the seat opposite her, waving lazily at someone behind her as he perched himself every so elegantly onto the chair, leaning back a bit like he had in that retched lesson where he'd gotten her into trouble.

_Stupid Nott and his stupid notes! _Hermione muttered internally.

Nott's smooth right hand appeared on the table and the brunette couldn't help but notice the small ink stains on the side of his thumb. Further examination might reveal more of the stains but Hermione highly doubted that they were due to any artistic interest despite their implication.

_Like there could ever be even a _single _artistic bone in this assholes body! _She huffed diligently.

"Then," Nott suddenly continued, snapping the Gryffindor out of her reverie, "you should have no problem recalling from that bulbous memory of yours something of a definition perhaps?" his tone was lightly challenging, but Hermione didn't miss it in that ever-present curl to the corner of his lips.

Hermione sent him a glare and turned her attention back hopefully to her essay.

Nott let out a _tsk _sound, "oh come on, Granger!" he purred at her. "I mean after the little mess you got me into today, what with your assertive advances in my regards, the _least _you could do is answer me a little question regarding the English dictionary?"

Hermione snorted despite herself, astounded by what she was hearing. "After the little mess _I _got you into today?!" her voice hitched a little. "You have _got _to be kidding me!"

Nott smirked, "oh come off it," suddenly his face was a mere thirty centimeters from hers, as he leaned in to capture her brown eyes with his blue ones. His mouth opened into a more prominent smirk as his eyes flickered, arrogantly slowly, down to her lips and back up. "Like you didn't enjoy the attention I was giving you." His eyebrow quirked a little bit as he leaned in further, hand reaching out to grab hers, in a much faster motion, and, to her horror, Hermione realized he was trying to _kiss _her. "Not to mention the _art _I presented."

Hermione jerked back so suddenly, her shoulder clenched in protest and felt her face heat up with rage and shock.

She was about to yell at him but his smirk stopped her as his hand drew back to show her the small, blank, cylindrical container in his grasp. "Take it easy, Hermit," he said slowly, shaking T.S.P's pills around in the container in front of her face, and Hermione was suddenly aware of all the eyes on her, obviously having seen her reaction, "just having a look see," he winked at her, his smirk, once more, just a curl at the corner of his lips.

Her eyes widened and she sat up straighter. "_Give those back!_"

Nott raised an eyebrow and smirked. "Sensitive are we?"

Hermione snapped forward, jarring her shoulder and wincing, with her hand in the air, ready to snatch the little thing out of his hands but he just raised it into the air until she could not hope to reach it.

"And what is it _exactly _that you're so…." His eyes shone slightly, "_anxious _to get back?"

Hermione leaned forward, ready to go again, but fell back immediately when the pain in her shoulder made her yelp.

She realized, with a sinking feeling of childish injustice, that she wasn't going to get them back by force.

He smirked, "don't give me that seducing glare, Granger," he licked his lips almost unperceptively. "You don't have to,"

Her face burned up instantly, whether with indignation or embarrassment, she didn't know. She glared. "I really hate you, Nott,"

The Slytherin leant back in his seat, eyes still fixed amusedly on her as he turned the container around in his hands. He shrugged, still smirking slightly, "that's ok." He shook cylinder and cocked his head to listen to the rattle that came from within it. "After all, it is a well known fact that hate and lust coincide quite elegantly," his eyes flickered back up to hers and he licked his lips at her – just the slightest flick of his tongue – before looking back down at the container as if nothing had happened. He shook them once more, "are these meds?"

Hermione ignored him, even though he _had _just used the word _meds, _sure that if she gave him the least amount of attention possible that he would get bored pretty soon.

"Granger?"

Her eyes stayed on her essay.

"Ooh the _silent treatment_," he said when she persisted, and she heard a strange squeaking sound as he leant back in his chair, until the front legs came off the floor. "Guess there's only one other way to find out then…"

Her eyes stayed on her essay.

_He's baiting you! Trying to get a reaction! Don't look up! Don't look up, don't look up, don't look up!_ Hermione hissed internally.

But, despite herself, Hermione looked up just in time to see Nott's pale fingers pick up a white capsule from the equally white container and pop it in his mouth.

Her own mouth dropped open, somehow shocked that he'd _actually _taken one despite her previous internal dispute. _Honestly! _Hermione thought in shock, _is he _daft? _For all _he _knows, that could have been a plot to _poison_ him that he just walked into!_

Nott's eyes rolled up and narrowed, as if he was calculating something in his head.

_Idiot, _Hermione added as an afterthought.

Suddenly he nodded and looked back down at her, small smirk on his lips. "Not bad, Granger," he murmured licking his lips, "quite effective against the average headache, though I am curious as to _why _they taste of strawberry-banana lip-gloss…?"

"Are you crazy?" she asked, pretending to be oblivious to the fact that Theodore Nott had just mentioned something as completely and utterly _muggle _as _lip-gloss_.

"Some say," he popped his finger in his mouth as if to lick off as much flavor as possible. "But in this case, I really don't think I'm wrong," he stopped to look at the ceiling again, "yep, definitely strawberry-banana," he smirked at her and licked his lips. "Wonder how that got there, eh, Granger?" his tone was posh and clipped.

_Exactly like his arrogant personality. _She thought bitterly.

Her eyes narrowed, "I haven't had them yet,"

"Oh so you just _bought _them strawberry-banana lip-gloss flavored?" he inquired a little too innocently.

"Shut up, Nott" she looked down to write the last six words of her essay and finished it off with a full stop that poked a hole in the page. Jerkily she rolled up the parchment, not caring if she smudged anything and leaned over the side of the Library desk to hastily slot it into her bag. _I'll fix it later_, she thought as she rose out of her chair.

Nott remained seated, curling a posh smile at the corner of his lips, and raising an eyebrow at her smoothly. "Have I by any chance, poked a nerve?"

"I said _shut up_, Nott," she growled snatching the pills out of his slip grasp.

"Touchy," the Slytherin smirked. "Judging by your preference of the woman's lip product I'd say that there's a good chance that The Rumor has an extendable component," his smirk broadened when he saw that he'd caught her attention. "How… _interesting_,"

Before Hermione knew what she was doing she was standing by Nott's arrogantly slouched self, right fist clenched around his collar and back and leg muscles working as she fought to pull him out of his chair in what she hoped was a menacing way. With a strength she didn't know she had, she dragged him into a dark, dust riddled section of the Library, a few feet away from the table and pushed him – as hard as she could – against the left row of shelves, pulling away just enough to make herself comfortable again, before pointing a steady finger at his chin.

"Listen up, Nott," she snapped, tongue hot with anger, "I don't know what these rumors are about and why Malfoy started them," she growled and begun to pace back and forth in indignation, "I would have talked to him already, if I could only _find _the slippery bastard!" she hissed and suddenly stopped to glare at the Slytherin, leaning, with eyebrows raised and a small smirk of amusement on his lips, against the shelves of the dank, nameless Library section. Striding towards him, she hotly pointed a finger at him. "But I guess you've just volunteered to tell me yourself, what with all the faffing you've caused me – you and your stupid _Arts and Craft _spells and _extendable components_ – so you're going to tell me _right now_, Nott," she drew in a raggedy, angry breath before continuing. "What in _Merlin's name_ has Malfoy been saying about me?!"

Nott pushed slowly off the shelves behind him and started walking towards her in long leisured paces, forcing her to back up into the opposite row behind her.

Hermione half-tripped backwards into the bookshelves in her haste to get away, and then, immediately afterwards, became rather suddenly aware of how close he'd gotten to her. Before she could do anything about it though, Nott's eyebrow raised once again and he spoke in a self-assured manor down at her.

"Did I just hear a direct insult towards my artistic skills there, Granger?" when all he got was a glare, he continued. "So you _are_ interested in public opinions about yourself," he mused, not really asking.

The Gryffindor swallowed her sharp retort, feeling that there might be progress to be had with this Slytherin around the corner. "Yes," she said tightly.

His smile was small, less arrogant, and Hermione found an immediate liking in the relief that came with the sudden change of atmosphere from the tall figure in front of her.

"Well, if you really want to know Granger," he murmured, patronizingly, "I suggest asking Malfoy yourself,"

Hermione's shoulders sagged in frustration. She ground her teeth. "I told you Nott, I've already-"

Nott cut her off, trapping her chin with his fingers before she could jerk out of the way and turning her head slightly as if to get a look at her temple. "It appears that you're as blind as the bird who's made a nest out of your head, Granger,"

"What-?" Hermione spluttered in surprise but was once again cut off.

"Open your eyes, Granger," he said, his own blue eyes staring hypnotically into hers. "And see what's right in front of you,"

His hand moved her chin until Hermione was forced to break eye contact with him, something that, surprisingly she didn't seem to want to do.

_Why does it feel like he's trying to tell me something? _She thought, dazed.

"Nott I-"

But, again, before she could finish, Hermione's eyes skipped over Nott's tall shoulder and caught on a certain Slytherin's blond head disappear into the Restricted Section with one Pansy Parkinson.

"You're welcome," Nott smirked, releasing his tight grip on her, but Hermione barely noticed.

Caught by a sudden surge of conflicting emotions, Hermione shoved Nott's hands away from her, where they had been hovering uselessly, pushing off the shelves and speed-walking in the direction she'd seen Malfoy disappear.

She was so distracted, she barely heard the; "See you on Sunday," that Nott called after her, and the remarkable lack of _shhh_ing from Madam Pince in his direction, before she rounded the corner into the Restricted Section, and stood to face Malfoy.

* * *

><p><strong>The night before (Thursday);<strong>

The figure was once again at the window that overlooked the Hospital Wing, with his forehead, once again, pressed up against the arch of the window's frame, and his eyes, once again, lit up in the heat of anger and arousal.

He felt himself bristle at that ever-present pressure in his groin – his foul temper making him dislike how much of an effect the Mudblood was having on him – even if it was slight.

But of course these thoughts were ridiculously counterproductive. He'd had his fair fill of sexual encounters during his mission with Granger – a most recent scenario had foolishly led him to believe that a simple shag would be enough to quench his thirst for her entirely – but it was evident to him now that, in anger at least, the arousal would never go away. No matter how cool a head he had retained for his waking hours with his release, when it came to his anger, the dark side to his day, there was no escaping that small voice in his head that reminded him that with the prospect of punishing the Mudblood in mind, he'd have to be close to her. Close enough to administer the proper punishment. And this turned him on to no end.

It was something that he was slowly coming to terms with, and getting angry about it would only betray his desire to stay calm and keep his head out of his–

The door to the Hospital Wing pushed open tentatively and Granger's bushy haired head poked in around the large frame.

His anger flared at the sight of her, and the rage flared in his chest until it was burning his brain, his tongue, behind his eyes and he could no longer keep it in anymore.

His wand was out before he gave it the permission to and he hissed as he cast a non-verbal spell of his own creation – _Cruciamentum!_

He watched as Granger – who had been halfway across the room, walking to Madam Pomfrey's office – immediately collapsed, grasping her bound shoulder and curling up on herself, her head thrown into her chest and her mouth open to gasp or scream in agony – he could not hear which.

His snarl was that of a madman and as was the sound of the voice in his head.

He grinned, suddenly, and his lip cracked, as he watched the effects of the newly developed Torment Curse – as he had baptized it at its creation.

It was an adaptation of the Cruciatus Curse and was everything it's cousin was not – subtle and explainable as something other than a malicious casting from someone that bore the victim ill.

The Cruciamentum Curse was as simple as it was painful. It merely enhanced a pain that the bearer already had to the point of agony and was therefore perfect for his mission with the Mudblood – for it would not be seen as suspicious but merely another lapse of pain from an old wound…

The figure's arm snapped back and he watched as the old hag of a nurse helped his property to her feet and lifted her into one of the hospital beds where she quickly fed her pain medication for the definitely reducing pain in the girl's shoulder.

His grin was fading now, the burning light in his eyes dimming, and being replaced by an annoyance as sharp and cold as steel – his outburst having soothed his nerves a little – as he watched, with contained anger as the Mudblood struggled against the dulling pain in her shoulder.

This was not over.

His jaw was set.

Granger had not yet suffered enough.

_And make no mistake Mudblood, _his internal voice was as smooth as silk, his mouth cracking a small yet present smile at the corners of his lips as despite himself, he felt his eyes spark at the corners – his thoughts of his next move in her respects clouding his mind like sweet honey and smoke.

_I will benefit greatly as I punish you for what you have done._

* * *

><p><em>ayayyayayayyayaya! so did you like it!?<em>

_go ahead and leave a Review (they're called Reviews aren't they? - jeez it really _has _been a long time since i've been on here hasn't it? :S) down bellow to tell me if you liked it!_

_or if you feel to send various hate messages to me about how it's been FIVE MONTHS since i last updated and how you've basically forgotten everything now... yeah either way! lol _

_This is to all of you that requested i not quit on this fanfic! I SHIP DRAMIONE! 3_

_special thanks to _**moonbee** _and _**RoguesMum **_and anyone else who showed support or expressed a like for my story - YOU GUYS ARE SO AWESOME! ! ! !£$$%£%^%$& % $^_

_And small, but sincere apologies to _**moonbee**_ who wrote to me because she was worried that i would abandon Letters, Daggers and Death Threats. _**moonbee **_whom i quickly reassured so confidently before promptly waiting 4 months to update... lol yeah... sorry _**moonbee**_! ;D_

_kk gtg! i think i'm coming down with a cold! :(_

_hopefully i'll see you guys soon!_

R.


End file.
